THE POT 
UPON THE WHEEL 



By PATIENCE WORTH 




Class B"F »30l - 
Book, ,W £fc2, 
Copyright^ 



X 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



' THE POT 
UPON THE WHEEL 



BY 

PATIENCE WORTH 



DICTATED THROUGH 

MRS. JOHN H. CURRAN 



EDITED BY 

CASPER S. YOST ' 



THE DORSET PRESS 

320 N. GRAND AVENUE 
ST. LOUIS, MO. 



( ~*Ti 



COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY 
THE DORSET PRESS V 



All Rights Reserved 

i 



cefH 



Printed by 

Von Hoffmann Press 
St. Louis 

MAR -7 J32l v 
©CI.A605990 



Introduction. 



The name of "Patience Worth" is now well 
known to the world and it seems sufficient to 
say it is the self-announced cognomen of the 
invisible personality who speaks and writes 
through Mrs. John H. Curran, of St. Louis, 
Mo. Whatever may be one's attitude towards 
the phenomenon of automatic writing, the 
facts in relation to this particular manifesta- 
tion are now too well established to admit of 
a reasonable doubt as to their verity. Patience 
Worth has been writing for six years and 
more, and during that time she has been visited 
by hundreds of men and women from all parts 
of the United States, and some from Canada, 
England and France, many of them eminent 
as educators, preachers, lawyers and scientists, 
none of whom can deny the actuality of the 






vi INTRODUCTION 

phenomenon, whatever differences of opinion 
there may be as to the nature of its source. 
This is not the place for the discussion of 
opinions on this matter. The task in hand is 
the presentation of the facts in relation to the 
production of the composition here presented, 

On the 28th of April, 1919, Patience Worth 
wrote, among other poems on that evening, 
the following on "The Potter": 

I am a clayster, a moulder of bowls. 
My hands are begrimed by their whirring. 

Bits of clay build the master craft 
Which is mine— little atoms of dust — clay. 
Besmearing clay I sit, watching it slip, 
With its glistening, cloying, waxen sub- 
stance, 
Beneath my hand, becoming perfect. Clay ! 

From where blown the atoms 

Which construct thee? Grime — 

Yet my fancy playeth. I cannot watch 



INTRODUCTION vii 

The stuff and make it my craft 
But that I unloose the steed of my soul 
Which is pawing for release. I would 
Watch him speed with that lash upon 
His flesh which is delivered by the 
Master's hand. I would let him 
Make away across the desert, into 
The palm lands where the pools stand 
In the sands, reflecting the image 
Of the sky — with these to companion 
While my hands labour with clay, 
And I sit watching the wheel 
And communing with the dusts. 

Grains of myrrh, dusts of palms, 
Mould of lilies, sands from the tombs 
Of Kings, mayhap bits of rubies 
Which once burned glowing, and were 
Pressed by loves now dead. 
All of this is within the clay, 
And my tears intermingle with them, 
Building a bowl upon the wheel. 



viii ' INTRODUCTION 

Whether this picture of the oriental potter, 
putting his fancy into his bowl, suggested the 
theme of this book, or whether the theme was 
already in mind and this but a casual expres- 
sion, I am unable to say. But two weeks after 
this was written Mrs. Alex. B. Smith, of Los 
Angeles, Cal., came to the home of the Cur- 
ran's to spend a few months in the study of 
the writings of Patience Worth, attracted by 
the personality of the invisible poet, and in re- 
sponse to this affectionate interest Patience, 
shortly after her arrival, said to her: "Ah, 
but the love-tendin' we shall be at, dame. I 
say thee shall have a wonderwork o' thine 
ain." A few days later Mrs. Curran spelled 
out the strange word "Aesol," and Patience 
said to Mrs. Smith: " Tis a whit o' thy won- 
derwork." Then she showed Mrs. Curran a 
picture of an old man seated at a rude pot- 
ter's wheel the axle of which turned within a 
socket of clay, the wheel being moved by hand. 
Above it a curious water receptacle fashioned 



INTRODUCTION ix 

of skin was suspended from a stick which from 
time to time the potter touched, spilling a few 
drops upon the clay pot which he was mould- 
ing upon the wheel. His beard was thin and 
pointed, and his countenance gave the impres- 
sion of wisdom and kindness. Upon his head 
was a coarse turban and he wore nothing else 
but a clout. A naked child stood beside him 
with wondering eye, seeming to be questioning 
him. " 'Tis the measurein' o' Youth against 
Age/' said Patience, but gave no further in- 
formation. Some days after this she began the 
dialogue and continued its dictation with but 
little diversion to other compositions until it 
was completed. 

The picture of the potter presented to Mrs. 
Curran needs some explanation. Pictures ac- 
company all the communications of Patience 
Worth and sometimes, as in this case, without 
verbal communications. They form a very re- 
markable feature of this phenomenon. As the 
letters come into her consciousness the scenes 



x INTRODUCTION 

depicted, the persons speaking or described, 
or the symbols of poetry, are pictured to her 
eyes, in miniature but vividly. It is as if she 
were looking upon a moving picture, a micro- 
scopic but distinct panorama of the life pre- 
sented in all its colors. Yet there is no loss of 
normal consciousness or of normal vision. One 
may be looking out of a window and seeing all 
that is within range of the eye, yet the thought 
may be upon some distant scene, and that scene 
be within the mind's eye at the same time as 
the physical one ; or one may be reading a book 
and seeing, mentally, the scenes and charac- 
ters suggested in the printed words. Such 
duality of vision is common enough to every 
one. But this of Mrs. Curran is different. 
These pictures are not the product of her 
thought. They are not suggested by the words 
coming from her, although she understands 
the words and comprehends their meaning as 
they come. It was my first impression that 



INTRODUCTION xi 

the pictures were a natural and normal result 
of the word suggestions. But experience long 
ago proved them to be impressed upon her 
vision as the words are impressed upon her 
consciousness, and by the same power. The 
pictures are too constant, too vivid, too com- 
plete in detail, and include too much that is 
utterly unknown to Mrs. Curran, to accept 
them as products of her imagination. For 
example, it was not known to her, or to anyone 
about her, although Mrs. Smith is skilled 
in ceramics, that there ever was such a pot- 
ter's wheel as that described here until the sub- 
ject was investigated afterward. There are 
hundreds of such instances. In this book the 
chapters are introduced by brief descriptions, 
written by Mr. Curran, of the scenes thus pre- 
sented to Mrs. Curran. No words accompanied 
these introductory scenes. Mrs. Curran simply 
told what she saw and Mr. Curran gave form 
to her description. 



xii INTRODUCTION 

As had been the case when she began other 
important work, Patience, shortly after begin- 
ning this book, gave this prayer for the ac- 
complishment of her hope and purpose in writ- 
ing it: 

Let not my tongue become heavy 
Of time nor light of sympathy. 
Make my words wisdom such as 
A child may nurture upon. I would 
Not walk.a path with Wisdom 
Upon which no child's feet disported. 

I would make my wisdom strong as an 
Armor, yet gentle as the eyes of 
Motherhood. In such accomplishment 
I shall be a true brother unto all 
Men, and a child with childhood. 
He who remembereth that wisdom 
Is but the mother's breast, 
Forgetteth not that he is a babe. 

C. S. Y. 



Written for and 

Lovingly Dedicated to 

Mrs. Alexander B. Smith 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 



I, 

(Scene — An Oriental city at the edge of the desert. 
Time — Perhaps a thousand years ago, perhaps today. At 
a corner of an open space within the walls sits a potter, 
moulding a pot upon a rude wheel. Beside him is a rack 
holding finished pots, the work of his hands. To him 
comes a child bearing a brass bowl.) 

Child: O Khadjas, I have come, I whom 
thou hast bidden to seek thy side at the 
dawning, that I hear thee sing. I have come, 

Khadjas, bearing the brass bowl for the 
filling at thy fount. Men whom I have passed 
upon my way have despised my shadow, and 

1 may not suckle at my mother's breast the 
draught of wisdom for which I thirst. Give 
me the water of thy wisdom. See ! Is not 
the bowl empty before thee ?" 



2 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Khadjas: "Wisdom is not learning, child. 
Fools have learning, and wisdom is the tat- 
ters that cover the beggar." 

Child: "O Khadjas, is this the filling of the 
bowl? Men have said that Love rode upon 
the back of a bird bearing a rod of sweet 
cane and a brace of arrows. Is this true, O 
Khadjas?" 

Khadjas: "Tomorrow the gateway shall 
swing inward, O child, and the caravans 
shall sweep within the city's place. Un- 
mindful shall the hand which moves this 
wheel turn its surface beneath the palm. 
That, O child, is love ; and the caravans have 
no plunder within their packs which may 
give the answer like the turning of the 
wheel." 

Child: "Is this wisdom ? Show me its waters, 
O Khadjas." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 3 

Khadjas: "Dip thy bowl within the waters, 
so, letting it come forth filled. Now, child, 
cast it upon the sands. It is done. Behold 
the answer! The sands are dry even now. 
Likewise is wisdom drunk and become dry, 
yet the herbage beneath the sands have be- 
come quickened." 

Child: "Then wisdom may not be drunk but 
must be cast forth unto the sands. Such is 
thy word, O Khadjas?" 

Khadjas: "Behold thy bowl, O child. It hath 
thirst upon its lips. It is empty. Again dip 
within the water and cast. A wise man keep- 
eth his bowl empty. 

"The waters of wisdom spurt the stones. 
The root of its stream is within the heart 
of man. And thou, O child, hast yet to learn 
that the gods strike upon stone for entrance 
when they smite the hearts of men. Aye, and 
'tis the water of wisdom which washeth the 
stone asunder." 



4 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Child: "Is this wisdom or confusion, O 
Khadjas?" 

Khadjas : "Learning is confusion ; wisdom is 
simplicity." 

Child: "Then with thy wisdom make simple 
words which mav define the thirst which is 
mine, O Khadjas. How in confusion may I 
find simplicity?" 

Khadjas: "Behold the pot, O child, turning 
upon its wheel, unmindful of the caravans 
or the sands, or that the mighty winds 
trouble them until the desert shall writhe in 
its golden fury, and in its labour work out a 
miracle. It is the pot upon the wheel, turn- 
ing." 

Child: "See, O Khadjas, I have drunk the 
draught. The pot upon the wheel, turning. 
No part of confusion. Apart from confu- 
sion. I would watch thee at the turning. I 
would watch thy hands at the labour. O 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 5 

Khadjas, singer, speak on ! What is the an- 
swer of hate? Among men I have seen the 
strife and the bitterness. I have beheld the 
bearing of blades and the gushing forth of 
blood. What is the answer of hate, O 
Khadjas?" 

Khadjas: 'Turn thou, O child, toward the 
East. Let thy voice rise in the sound of call- 
ing. Demand of the gods answering. There ; 
even as I have commanded it is done. Hark ! 
Hearest thou the answer? Watch the pot 
turning. It hath not a voice for calling nor 
ears to take in the answering. It turneth 
upon the wheel." 

Child: "But is this wisdom, O Khadjas, or 
is it that the pot is not flesh. What is the 
smile which plays thy grim lips? Is it at 
my folly thou art smiling ?" 

Khadjas: "Nay, child, the pot is flesh and 
hath a thirst for wisdom. Behold the drops, 



6 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

falling, falling. See! they are drunk and the 
pot becometh more perfect. Yet it is crying 
not aloud. Hate is not yon in the Eastway, 
nor yet within the West, nor within the 
North, nor the South, nor above nor below. 
It hath no answer. No man who would hear 
its voice would answer its hideous cry. 

"O child, pluck forth a stone and fling it 
unto the pot. Behold, it is broken into bits 
by the smiting of hate. Yet in its confusion 
it lieth upon the wheel, and is still the pot 
upon the wheel, turning !" 

Child: "But it is broken, O Khadjas! Thy 
wisdom may not make it whole. Hate hath 
shattered it." 

Khadjas: "Behold, O child, the atoms of its 
being are complete !" 

Child: "O Khadjas, I have drunk the water 
of thy wisdom. The answer to hate is the 
pot upon the wheel, turning. The Master's 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 7 

hand awaiteth His vessel and the answer is 
the pot upon the wheel, turning. 

"O Khadjas, why is the day dry of wis-^ 
dom and wet of learning? Why do men 
make pence of learning and beg wisdom ?" 

Khadjas : "O child, thy voice hath become old 
in that utterance ! Learning is the counting 
of jewels; wisdom is the jewels!" 

Child: "O Khadjas, thy wisdom is a clear 
pool. I, a child of the sands, may not read 
wisdom upon the desert nor upon men, for 
they that possess wisdom are mute to an- 
nounce it, while they that have learning 
chant loudly, displaying their wares. 

"Is wisdom a daughter of the stars ? Hath 
she, O Khadjas, turquoise upon her anklets 
and armlets of silver which ring? Hath she 
gladness and youth? Is she smiling? Doth 
she dance unto the music of Folly, ringing 
her armlets and displaying the turquoise 



8 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

upon her anklets? Is her hair perfumed of 
sweet oils and dusted of golden dusts? Is 
her breast bare and veined of milk? Is she 
a bearer of men? O Khadjas, how many 
men have been born of wisdom?" 

Khadjas: "Child, she is not laughing. Her 
feet are bare and bleeding and her hands 
have been cupped by the turning of her 
wheel. Her breasts drip, aye, and the cups 
of all men &re pressed unto them. Her rai- 
ment is of doubt. While the temple bells ring 
she is within the retreat of the souls of men, 
for the temple bells are but a symbol of the 
calling of men one unto the other, while wis- 
dom calleth not but is born of the union of 
humility and thirst. Truth is unveiled and 
belongeth not unto the Caliph's harem. 

"This is the speech of a heretic but wis- 
dom is mute. Confide, O child, unto wisdom ! 
Take up the bowl, for tomorrow cometh 
bearing a tray of opals, and the sun is with- 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 9 

in them, and wisdom glows within their 
hearts like fire veiled with camel's milk. 

"Tomorrow cometh, and her young neck 
shall be encircled with a golden chain, and 
her lips shall utter new words ; and wisdom 
shall be found upon her breast, new-born! 

"O child, bring thy bowl unto the side of 
Khadjas that he shall speak the name of wis- 
dom confidently unto thee. Turn thine eyes 
unto the coming morning, untroubled with 
that thou hast learned, for remember that 
learning is but the clinking cymbals unto 
wisdom's feet. Unfetter thy tongue with a 
pack of inquiry. Today hath nothing new, 
nothing old, but the turning of the pot upon 
the wheel. 

"Return in the young morning, if thou 
thirsteth, with thy cup. But, if thy wisdom 
hath aroused, return with a lighted taper." 



II. 



(Scene — The same. Comes the Child again, bearing a 
lighted taper.) 

Child: "O Khadjas, behold me and the light- 
ed taper ! I have run with sure legs unto 
thy side through the young morning. Even 
as thy tongue foretold, I beheld the morning 
with her tray of opals, and I knew wisdom 
within their hearts even though 'twas veiled 
with camel's milk. I am assured of the 
knowledge I have attained. O Khadjas, be- 
hold me with my taper lighted with confi- 
dence, for I am come unto the knowledge of 
true wisdom." 

Khadjas: 'This is the tongue of youth, O 
child ! Should a man slay his brother, what 
should thy judgment be?" 

11 



12 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Child: "O Khadjas, out of the fullness of my 
wisdom I speak. A man should justly slay 
his brother should he defile the law. He 
should be secure in his wisdom and know his 
brother's failing. He should, with his word 
of wisdom, adjudge his brother wrong in his 
wrongdoing. He should make himself no 
part of such folly as belongs his brother. 
This is the judgment of wisdom upon this, 
O Khadjas." 

Khadjas: "O child, behold thy taper; it is 
gone out! With the zeal of thy folly thou 
hast extinguished wisdom. Where is thy cup 
and thy humility? Behold the pot upon the 
wheel, turning. While thy learning led thee 
upon the highways, wisdom remained the pot 
upon the wheel, turning." 

Child: "Then am I confused, O Khadjas. I 
who so lately would have drunk truth have 
supped folly. Behold my lamp is gone out 
and I am consumed of a keener thirst. 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 13 

Where is my bowl ? I have left it as an empty 
vessel and have naught within which to 
catch wisdom. Behold, the taper is no 
more and naught but wisdom may relight it. 
Let me speed with swift legs that I bring 
forth the bowl, empty. Detain me not with 
thy words, O Khadjas; I would flee forth !" 

Khadjas : "Before the new flame of thy taper 
bow, O child. Behold in thy returning hu- 
mility it hath sprung forth anew, the new 
flame of wisdom. 

"The pot is upon the wheel. Return with 
no conviction but with the question of a 
child. Already art thou upon the way. Such 
is the pathway of youth. While wisdom 
maketh her confident word, folly pipes and 
youth would dance. 

"Today but brought new fears and old 
doubts. Make haste. Bring forth thy bowl 
for the filling. Unto the side of Khadjas re- 
turn in faith." 



14 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

(Child runs swiftly homeward, returning with a 
larger bowl.) 

Child: "Behold me, O Khadjas! I, who so 
lately left thy side, return, making sure that I 
may be armored against folly, for behold that 
I bring forth a bowl that is once and once 
again so large as first I proffered. I am 
consumed of thirst and wisdom is a dry 
draught. Is the taper burning? Why are 
thy lips so interchangeful of sorrow and 
smiling? Seven-fold have I withstood the 
folly of the path, neither turning to the right 
nor to the left, bearing with confidence the 
new bowl for the new draught, thy wisdom, 
O Khadjas !" 

Khadjas : "Lo, before thy folly wisdom hath 
forsaken thee ! Is the bowl thou didst proffer 
yesterday filled?" 

Child: "Nay, it is no longer a useful vessel. 
Have I not drunk from its lips? Behold, I 
proffer a newer fashioned cup, for my thirst 
is monstrous." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 15 

Khadjas: "Make ready thy cup then, that 
thou shalt dip. The hand of Khadjas prof- 
fereth thee the water which is wisdom. 

"Thy cup is o'er its filling, yet this is the 
water of Yesterday and Yesterday's waters 
may not be drunk from Today's bowl. The 
sands of Eternity thirst for the waters of 
Yesterday. So be it. Look ! upon the sands 
I have cast it and it is already dry. Go forth 
and bring thy cup filled of the waters of To- 
day." 

Child: "But, Khadjas, where is the well?" 

Khadjas: "Each man, O child, seeketh his 
well of wisdom. Make thee forth, and at the 
eve's coming I shall await thee confidently, 
turning the wheel and creating a new pot." 

Child: "Thou, O Khadjas, did bid me to re- 
turn with no conviction but with the ques- 
tion of a child. What, O Khadjas, is the 
thing which swings the gate of the city? 



16 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

What is the thing which setteth hunger with- 
in man's breast ? What is the thing that lieth 
between the stones of the city walls and is 
the foundation of the temple and of the 
huts ?" 

Khadjas: "Unto thy word, O child, I would 
reply : watch with mindful eye the pot upon 
the wheel, and the potter's hands, each finger 
flattened with the service of creation, each 
sinew strengthened with the desire of power ; 
for the foundation of the pot is within the 
potter's spirit, and the whirring of the 
wheel is weaving his fancy. 

"This is the stuff of the temple's founda- 
tion. This is the stuff between the stones of 
the city's walls. It is the thing which rides 
upon the back of a bird with a rod of sweet 
cane and a brace of arrows. It is LOVE. It 
swingeth the city gates and ringeth the tem- 
ple's bells. It condemns not, nor fellows with 
folly, though folly followeth it." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 17 

Child: "O Khadjas, I am filled with thy wis- 
dom. I shall go forth with my great bowl 
and fill it with the blue water of the sky! 
I shall let a star lie upon its breast and rim 
the bowl with the circlet moon ! Yea, I shall 
set my bowl upon the pedestal of the sun! 
O Khadjas, I shall find the well of wisdom 
and with the bowl of my spirit shall dip it 
dry ! I shall come before thee and make thee 
acknowledge that Youth hath a foreshort- 
ened pathway unto wisdom. Oh, lay not a 
hand of restraint upon me, O Khadjas ; I am 
overcome with confidence!" 

Khadjas : " Yea, child, but thy bowl is empty !" 

Child (Wonderingly confused) : "Which 
way, O Khadjas, to the well of wisdom ?" 

Khadjas: "Let thy confidence lead thee, 
child." 

Child: "But, O Khadjas, I have but met her, 
and thee I have known since my great eyes 



18 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

beheld the bat upon the moon, The sun is 
hot. Thinkest thou the water shall be low 
within the well?" 

Khadjas: "Be upon thy path, O child. To- 
day is an open script, and thou hast read the 
hours with no filling of their wisdom. When 
the evening hath come return with thy 
bowl." 






III. 

(The child departs slowly. In the late evening he 
returns wearily, bearing the cup. The moon shows him 
Khadjas and he approaches swiftly, crying.) 

"O Khadjas! O Khadjas! O Khadjas! 
Woe is me, for the men of Earth have be- 
set me, and I in my confusion have but tar^ 
ried to return the stones they cast. But be- 
hold, the night found me with no wisdom 
and no water of the well, for my bowl is 
filled with stones ! My throat cries out with 
thirst and the wisdom that was mine hath 
forsaken me. There is no pathway marked 
upon the streetways where wisdom hath 
trod for I have sought her footprints and 
have found but sand. The winds of the four 
ways have descended upon me and blinded 
mine eyes with the desert wastes. I see noth- 
ing but the blackness of the night, and I am 

19 



20 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

weary of the searching for the water. O 
Khadjas, take my bowl and lend me but one 
sup 



I" 



Khadjas: "O child, sit beside the wheel. Clasp 
thy legs about the rod. Lay thy hands upon 
the cool clay and press thy lips against the 
sweating curves. The moon shall draw up 
from the well of night new wisdom that is 
cool." 

Child : "O Khadjas, my hands have ceased to 
throb. Mine eyes have lifted unto the skies. 
I see the moon rising, but my bowl is empty 
of the sky's blue and the stars, and the 
moon's circlet is not upon its lips. . . . Be- 
hold ! Yon is a young star !" 

Khadjas: "Nay, child, it is the taper of thy 
lamp, burning." 

Child : "Seven caravans have come within the 
walls, O Khadjas, each man among them a 
noble, each camel hung in glittering array, 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 21 

and the packs are scented of spices, and the 
wisdom they bring is overpowering. They 
tell of far lands, of the interchanging of 
moneys, of the lands of other gods and 
kings. They have spoken that thy wisdom 
is but the musing of the aged. What is the 
answer?" 

(Silence, broken but by the whirring of the wheel.) 

Child: "Is silence a rebuke, O Khadjas, or is 
it an acknowledgment? Seven caravans 
are many and the men of seven caravans are 
many many. Their wisdom is not to be de- 
spised since it hath bought goods. And thine, 
O Khadjas, leaveth thy feet naked and thy 
hands scarred. What is thy answer ?" 

Khadjas: "Seven caravans, and the wisdom 
of the men of seven caravans ! Their packs 
are scented of spices and each man is a 
noble ! Look thou, child ; is not the cheek of 
the pot round?" 



22 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Child: 'This is no answer, O Khadjas! I 
have come unto wisdom which I bring forth 
unto thee who declare thyself wise. What is 
thy answer ?" 

Khadjas: "Seven drops and seven whirrs/' 

Child: "Thou art jesting, O Khadjas! Make 
me an answer 



I" 



Khadjas: "Seven turns upon the wheel and 
seven tears dropped upon it. Child, behold 
the pot upon the wheel. O child, thy heart 
is the pot upon the wheel. The clay is cool. 
The water droppeth cunningly over it." 

Child: "O Khadjas, let me lay my hand upon 
it. It itcheth for contact/' 

Khadjas: "But the caravans are passing, 
child." 

Child: "Yea, O Khadjas, but the clay is cool 
and the water drops !" 



IV. 

(The Child again returns. Some days later.) 

Child: "Seven times, O Khadjas, have the 
city's gates swung inward. Seven times I 
have stood beside thy wheel drinking in the 
wonders of thy wisdom. Neither thy words 
nor the wisdom they contain make the deal- 
ing of the day clear unto mine eyes, for be- 
hold, unto me the city is like a grain of sand 
bathed with the dusts, for it lieth beneath 
the bath of iniquities and cunning and dis- 
honorable dealing helplessly like unto the 
grain of sand. 

"What manner of wisdom hath man for 
such, O Khadjas? When I rest beside thy 
wheel watching the pot I am not confused, 
but when I with sure legs stride forth to be- 
come a part of the city's day, I become as a 

23 



24 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

bit of foam upon the surface of the sea and 
am tortured before its strength. Men have 
no ear for my wisdom and even though its 
waters are sweet and my lips thirst for its 
draught, they laugh at my cup in derision 
and set about the interchanging of wares, 
saying: 'Gods are not within mouthing, 
neither the wisdom of gods. Behold, is not 
this the stuff for gods?' and they hold up 
before my gaze the market's wares and fall 
into wordy discourse. They are consumed 
with the desire of greed and hunger not for 
wisdom. O Khadjas, their day is not thy 
day, yet I am one among them and must 
live the hours of their day and deal thy wis- 
dom! It may not be, O Khadjas, for thy 
wisdom is confusion unto them and their 
day is confusion unto thee." 

Khadjas : "O child, thy words are not of wise 
men. Remember thou that all men who word 
are not wording wisdom nor yet learning. 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 25 

Behold, the babes about the market place 
each is consumed with some play. Their 
prattle is but the soughing of the winds and 
meaneth less. Yet, unto them, play is the 
rooting of wisdom. The men that thou hast 
listed unto are but babes prattling. Their 
eyes see naught but the gaud of the wares, 
and their mouths speak naught but of the 
worth of them, for worthless possessions 
may not become worth save that the pos- 
sessor assure himself and all men of their 
worth, repeating with sure tongue the false 
value until it becometh well-sounding unto 
his ear and unto them that list. 

"Behold the pot upon the wheel ! It neither 
becometh a part of such nor rebuketh the 
action. Men may despise it, laying their 
hands upon its clay in light touch. Of this 
the pot hath no part. Men may even make 
loud announcement of its little value. Of 
this it hath no part; for within its clay is 



26 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

imbibed the thought, the will, of the potter, 
and it cries aloud: 'I am a pot/ even before 
its shape hath become perfect/' 

Child: "Where, O Khadjas, are the prayers 
of wisdom? Wise men pray, though thou 
art mute." 

Khadjas : "O child, prayer is but the water of 
the soul dripping upon the clay and may not 
become & perfect thing, a vessel of office, 
without labour. What potter, O child, would 
fling forth 'from him on the instant a pot 
complete? This would not be labour, and 
labour is the loving unto creation. Love may 
not be bartered for, O child ; aye, love is the 
price of labour. 

"Thou hast brought the wisdom of men 
unto me and the despisal of the wisdom I 
have dealt out unto thee. What is thy an- 
swer unto this?" 

Child: "O Khadjas, I am mute before such 
wisdom ! It is as though my spirit were the 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 27 

blue sky and a dove had been loosed unto it. 
I would follow its flight but the barb of the 
men slay it and it falleth dead at my feet. 
Thy voice, O Khadjas, is but one voice and 
the voices of men are many. I am lonely, 
so I tarry to listen, for there, in the market's 
place, is companionship." 

Khadjas: "No man, O child, is lonely who 
hath the rod of truth within his hand. There 
is but one Voice, and mine is but the echo 
of it. Goest thou unto the market's place 
thou shalt find thyself far o'er lonely among* 
men who clank the pence of folly." 

Child: "O Khadjas, I am through with thy 
wisdom. I shall fling it forth as a stone of 
hate. I shall shatter the pot upon the wheel 
and fare forth unto the city's place." 

Khadjas: "Begone, O child, but tarry until 
the hand of the potter lendeth thee a bit of 
clay, for rememberest thou not that the men 
of the city's way beset thee with stones ?" 



28 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Child: "But I am wise, O Khadjas, over the 
day that let me become a part of their con- 
fusion. I shall now become their brother, 
no longer contesting their wisdoms but lend- 
ing an ear." 

Khadjas: "O child, unto thy hand Khadjas 
delivereth a bit of clay. Treasure it as a 
treasure of the Rajah, and do the city's men 
beset thee, fling thou not the stone but a bit 
of clay. No man is so undone as he who is 
befouled of- the clay of Truth, which clings. 
No stone is so sharp." 

Child: "It shall be as thou hast willed, O 
Khadjas, but I shall return with the clay 
when the moon shall come whitely up from 
the phantom land of night. O Khadjas, she 
is the seer with the veil of wisdom. Silence, 
Khadjas, silence! It shall be silence I shall 
present unto the men of the city's place." 

Khadjas: "Depart, O child. Wisdom is 
perched upon thy shoulder as an owl upon a 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 29 

shrunken branch. Before thy convictions 
the wisdom of Khadjas shivers and whines." 



(In the evening the Child returns.) 

Child: "O Khadjas, through the evening I 
have come, bearing the spoils of my labour. 
Behold, I did beset the day with my bit of 
clay, and men laughed at the casting. With 
the last whit of the substance did I bring 
down a prey in the form of a dove." 

Khadjas : 'This is not folly, O child, for the 
clay that hath intermingled with men hath 
clung unto their raiment. The prey that fell 
was a dove? So is the symbol of the earth. 
The dove shall fall before the stone of love ; 
even so the eagle shall soar, seeking in the 
heights the feed of the lowly. Yea, but his 
hunger shall call him unto earth." 

Child: "But, O Khadjas, I have come upon 
men who have poured the wine from the 



30 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

skins into cups and drunk and declared that 
wisdom sprung unto them from the grape. 
Indeed, their words were wise and spark- 
ling as the wine which glowed as the heart 
of the harvest moon. He who listeth unto 
their word becometh convinced of its weight, 
for their tongues are like lightning and their 
wisdom heavy as thunder. 

"Answer with thy wisdom, Khadjas, 
which is like the water from a hot well and 
hath little- power for the quenching of 
thirst/' 

Khadjas: "So this is the day's dealing, O 
child. Thou hast come upon men who drink 
their wisdom from out cups, cups of con- 
fusion which set up the function of folly. 
The labour bringeth forth a brat child, and 
men have called it wisdom but it hath the 
skin of an ass! And its utterance is but a 
bray ; thus is its weight announced !" 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 31 

Child: "Why is this, O Khadjas, that thy 
words make the day unf ellowable ? What 
seemed the import of life becometh as a 
phantom. The words of men which I have 
striven to hold, fall unto dust within my 
hands, for they may not look unto thine 
eyes—those peace-writ eyes which gaze over 
the desert sands with no fear within them — 
and declare their unbelief in thee. What is 
thy answer unto this thing which thou pre- 
sentest unto man?" 

Khadjas: "He, O child, whose faith is his 
feet and his hands, needs not fear for his 
heart nor his spirit/ 5 

Child: "Thy tongue, O Khadjas, is of myrrh 
and sweet oils, but the dust of the day is 
aloes. The draught of the waters of day em- 
bitters the cup of all men. I am displeased 
with the wisdom thou pressest upon me. Thy 
tongue uttereth blasphemy and I am intol- 
erant with the gentle wisdom which is thine. 



32 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Behold, I would make mine armor strong 
with a wisdom of steel and my blade's point 
would I make keen upon the tongue of ^wis- 
dom. 

"O Khadjas, I am as a dismayed child 
before the darkness of the task seeking wis- 
dom r 

Khadjas: "O child, thy tongue is bathed in 
folly. Let the waters of its wisdom flow 
freely and teave thy throat dry. Then thou 
shalt know the thirst which is true." 

Child: "I know not, O Khadjas, the thing 
thou wouldst that I possess. Lo, I have 
listed unto thy discourses and become con- 
fused and out of my confusion conviction 
springeth not up but is dried beneath the 
sun of doubt. The words of men are as 
stones upon my flesh and they enter unto the 
abode of my spirit, marking it with wrath. 
Yea, my spirit writhes beneath their words 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 33 

of dissension and I have not the strength to 
hurl back their wreaking of wrath upon me. 

"My folly, then, is it in the weakness of 
my legs? Or in the unsteadiness of my 
hands? Or is it upon the tip of my tongue 
or in the pit of my heart? Wherein, O 
Khadjas, is my shortcoming? 

"I despise thy word, O Khadjas, for it 
is like unto the sun of high noon ; it neither 
giveth thee cool nor rest, but beateth down 
relentlessly. Thou, with thy tongue of wis- 
dom, turning the wheel beneath thy palm, 
knowest not the affairs of men. There are 
men who sit idly, clothed of rich stuff, whose 
tongues slip like silks over a lady's hand. 
And their wisdom is cunning. It hath the 
casket of truth about it, but within its pit 
gleameth the eyes of a green demon." 

Khadjas: "O child, then thy wisdom is be- 
come a child of thy flesh, if thou knowest 
this thing." 



34 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Child: "But, O Khadjas, how may I, who 
so lately came from the Midnight Land, 
whose sunless days and moonless nights tell 
naught and whose silence is unbroken until 
a babe wails, know which of ye be offering 
truth?" 

Khadjas : "He who decketh within the labour 
of the hands of other men, hath no labour 
to present. Judge a man, O child, by his 
labour." 

Child: "What then! thou wouldst that I 
judge an ass's man (an ass driver) by his 
labour?" 

Khadjas: "Yea, even so, O child. He who 
f olloweth truly the tracking of an ass, may 
indeed find wisdom." 

Child: "Then, O Khadjas, thou hast naught 
to offer unto me but the pot upon the wheel ?" 

Khadjas: "Nay, O child; neither hath the 
great God more! Upon the wheel of the 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 35 

universe, behold He fashioneth out the 
pots." 

Child: "Then, O Khadjas, shall I go forth 
armored with thy simple wisdom which cov- 
ereth not my naked body. With a bare breast 
shall I make myself a part of the day. I 
shall leave my legs uncovered and my feet 
bare. I shall go forth unto the earth's day 
with no implement of labour save the brass 
bowl, letting the hours place within my hand 
the rod of creation and following the im- 
port. 

"Seven tides (years) shall I remain apart 
from thee. Seven seas and seven deserts shall 
I traverse. And the days of my travail shall 
I record upon white skins of young lambs, 
bringing the scripts unto thy side. 

"And thou, O Khadjas, shalt take within 
thy hut the lamp of my wisdom, keeping 
its wick trimmed, while I go forth with my 
bowl for the refilling, unto the earth." 



V. 

(Years have passed. A caravan appears, winding its 
way like a giant snake across the golden desert sands, 
to halt at the city's gate. The camel men check their 
beasts with hands and raucous cries and then stand silent 
waiting the masters word. Their clothes are of silks and 
fine cloths of many colors, the camels' trappings glitter 
with gems and bright wrappings and their packs are heavy 
with chests studded with jewels and gold. From the lead 
camel dismounts a youth in turban and silken robes, with 
sash of many colors from which! gleams blades with 
jewelled hilts. The Gateman appears and the youth ap- 
proaches.) 

Youth : "O Keeper of the gate, ope its arch 
that I may come within! I who have tra- 
versed the seven seas and the seven desert 
ways; I who so confidently left the city of 
wisdom to seek a newer w T ine, return tri- 
umphant ! Behold, yon is my caravan ! With- 
in it basketh bronze idols of the men of 
seven lands. Behold, I have brought forth 
the gods of seven peoples, each speaking in 



a new tongue. 



37 



38 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"O thou keeper of the gate, behold! My 
camels each is packed of riches past the 
prince's wealth. Behold the lead is packed 
with emeralds and each is flashing in its 
dark abode, begging for the sun. Behold, 
the follow is packed with pearls and they 
lie damp one upon the other, softly, softly 
pressing one the other's cheek ; and the white 
sides gleam like the sea beneath the morning 
sky, and they have been washed by the tears 
of kings and have lain upon the breast of the 
sea's nurture. Behold then, the follow. It 
is packed with rubies and they wickedly 
gleam, flashing their fires in challenge ! 

"Behold then the follow. There within its 
pack gleameth turquoise, veined of copper 
and glinted of the white which flasheth be- 
side the copper's trail. Behold then the fol- 
low, for within its pack is stored the opals of 
all lands. Red they gleam like the cheeks 
of a veiled daughter. Yea, the moon-white 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 39 

with fires of eternity within them striving 
to leap forth. Yea, and green, green as the 
sea with the sun upon its waves and the 
foam sprayed o'er. Yea, and blue as the 
morning sky with the sun pale, hid behind 
the cloud. Yea, and black, black as midnight, 
when the tiger's eyes glow ! 

"Yea, the stores of the Rajah show no 
such wealth as this, my caravan. Yet, O 
behold, thou Keeper of the gate, I am re- 
turned with my brass bowl empty, though 
I have captured the gods of seven peoples! 
Their tongues are still and I have beheld not 
their works but the faith of their people. 
Such is not the God I seek. 

"O Keeper of the gate, cast the gateway in- 
ward that I pass. I would seek at the fount 
of Khadjas, Khadjas who sits yon, turning 
his wheel." 

(The. gates swing inward. The youth hastens toward 
Khadjas. The caravan files in, filling the streets to their 
full and trailing far without the gate. The villagers stand 



40 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

in awed wonder at the sight and the strange wording of 
the two.) 

Youth: "Yea-ho, Khadjas! It is I, the child. 
I have returned even as I did promise and 
behold my caravan! Within it the gods of 
seven peoples. Yea, each silent ! O Khadjas, 
I have failed in the quest of wisdom, even 
though with the cloth of wisdom that thou 
didst lend unto my hand I did wipe dry the 
face of Earth. Yea, where there was con- 
fusion there is more confusion, and where 
there was false wisdom, behold, the men who 
peddled of its wares stopped to question, but 
I had not the answer. Ah, but Khadjas, I, 
the child, make announcement before thee, 
that I have found a new well at which to 
drink. Behold, it is the lips of the daughter 
of Aesol! O Khadjas, the water of such 
wisdom is running as a stream of fire. Its 
hot breath consumeth, yet its dews steep thee 
in honey. It maketh a man's words become 
winged things. Yea, it leapeth about thee like 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 41 

the waters of the young spring, then cooling 
thee unto the swooning. 

"Speak, O Khadjas ! O Khadjas, cease thy 
turning ! Stop thy hand ! I am come to con- 
fess my new wisdom. Speak my name! I 
would hear it." 

Khadjas : "O Child, call loudly unto the East- 
way, k Fool P and hark." 

Youth : "But, O Khadjas, I would seek thy 
mercy. I would not be despised for a fool. I 
would make thee acclaim me wise. If this 
is not wisdom I have found, what callest thou 
this?" 

Khadjas: "O child, Wisdom hath but knocked 
at thy door and this is her hand." 

Youth : "But the doorway is flung wide, O 
Khadjas, and I await her." 

Khadjas: "Yea, O child, wait — her!" 

Youth : "But she is wisdom ! Thou hast con- 
fessed it." 



42 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Khadjas : "Nay, nay. I have but listed to 
your acclaim/' 

Youth: "But O Khadjas, when the doorway 
shall let wisdom in, how shall I know?" 

Khadjas: "Behold, O child, thy lead camel 
shall go yon, and its follow and its follow 
and its follow, or thine eyes shall be dazzled 
upon the hand of wisdom. The daughter of 
Aesol shall recline upon thy breast, laughing, 
and — Khadjas shutteth up his eye's wording 
— where then shall wisdom be? For the 
daughter of Aesol shall despise not the 
camels nor their packs, nor shall she ask for 
a draught from thy bowl. It is thou, O child, 
who art thirsted, aye, and drunk ! 

"Which water, O child, this at the hand 
of Khadjas, or this at the lips of the daugh- 
ter of Aesol?" 

Youth : "Mirth o'ercometh me, O Khadjas. I 
have kept record, upon the white skins, of 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 43 

the days. Each is writ of valour, of uncon- 
querable feats. Yea, I have been above my 
brother, yet have I thirsted. The man that 
I am crieth out in pride and the man within 
me sighs, for he is a beggar beside the road- 
way as the caravan passeth. Not one ruby 
may I lay within his hand, nor an opal or yet 
a pearl or yet an emerald or yet a turquoise. 
Nay, I may not even weep within his empty 
bowl. 

"He will not stop his whining though I 
pour unto my packs the wealth of the uni- 
verse. Yet shall I conquer ! With mine own 
wisdom have I tortured the day. Aye, and 
Khadjas, how mayst thou know this new 
well, thou whose lips have shrunk and whose 
arms ne'er held a woman? Is this mirth or 
rebuking, O Khadjas, thy laughter?" 

Khadjas: "Neither, O child. It is but the 
musing of age. Khadjas hath pressed that 



-.-. THE POT UPON THE WHZZL 

grape, and the wine is old. But eld wine is 
: r Youth 

Youth: Yea. '.ook thou, O Khad 

here is a goblet. I shall hold it upon high. 
Tis a shell from the shore of one of the 
seven seas. Yea. and the ages have painted 
its lips and it is awaiting the kiss of such 
wine as I shall pour within it. Look ye I 
decry thy wine, for the wine that I shall 
drink shall flow from between rubies and be 
created of pearls. Yea, and the neck of the 
urn shall be of the skin of a lilv which hath 

m 

lain beneath the sun. turning gold, and 
arms shall be ebony, her locks, O Khadjas, 
and as I drink I shall forget wisdom within 
her embrace. What is thy answer to this ":" 

Khadjas .all Tool r O child, unto the East- 
wav ! 

Youth: "Thy tongue is like unto a lash, O 
Khad j as, and I sear beneath it. Create. O 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 45 

Khadjas, upon thy wheel, a pot like unto that 
which I am." 

Khadjas : "It shall be, O child. Behold, I lift 
with care this which I have fashioned out 
unto perfection, and behold take up new clay 
which is dry. Behold, the water is gone and 
I fashion unto no cause, for I may not make 
unto a cunning pattern with dry clay." 

Youth : "Then thou wouldst say that I pos- 
sess not the water of wisdom, O Khadjas? 
Yet shall I show thee, for I shall recline upon 
a camel, clasping the daughter of Aesol and 
watch men in their folly making wisdom. ] 
shall deter not their steps, neither tell them 
that I have failed. Then shall they smile upon 
me, acclaiming me wise. For, O Khadjas, 
what riches lie in silence ! Even thou in thy 
wisdom will acknowledge this since thy 
greatest trick is silence. This much have I 
learned, O Khadjas." 



46 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Khadjas : "Yea, child, but the cup of silence 
loseth its bottom and man trieth in vain to 
drink from such a cup." 

Youth: "Look, look, O Khadjas, upon my 
caravan! Look! I have the gods of seven 
peoples, they and their wisdom/' 

Khadjas : "Yea, child, but that is naught, for 
they, like unto thee, present silence unto the 
day." 

Youth : "But thy God is silent, O Khadjas." 

Khadjas : "Nay, nay, O child. He is running 
upon the legs of men and I Hear Him 
in the drop of water upon the clay, yea, and 
feel His hand upon mine as I turn the wheel. 
He is neither mournful nor folly-like. He is 
companionable." 

Youth : "Yet thou seest no man as companion 
and find little, O Khadjas, in common with 
men." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 47 

Khadjas: "Yea, child, yea. Tis far o'er the 
communing with men to commune with 
God." 

Youth: "Stop thy hand, O Khadjas. I am 
weary of thy moulding. I would behold thy 
finished bowls. Are these perfect ?" 

Khadjas: "Nay, nay, child. Behold them 
awaiting the fires. Yea, like unto thee. Thou 
shalt enter the flaming oven upon the lips of 
the daughter of Aesol !" 

Youth : "O Khadjas, I, the child, laugh at thy 
weary wisdom ! Tomorrow ! Oh, tomorrow 
is golden. Her banners ride forth upon 
charging steeds and the knockings of strange 
music shall delight her people. Thou hast no 
part, O Khadjas, in tomorrow. 

"Look upon my caravan. I shall return 
again when the tides have become a twain, 
and behold my caravan shall reach where 
thine eyes may not see, and I shall ride unto 



48 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

the gate of the city with the daughter of 
Aesol upon the lead camel, laughing, and 
thou shalt warm thy stricken soul upon her 
lips." 

Khadjas: "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, O child, 
is yet a mute babe and she shall be born unto 
all men separately." 

Youth: "What is tomorrow, O Khadjas, 
what is tomorrow ? In my wisdom I have not 
the answer, yet in my confidence I utter it." 

Khadjas : "Tomorrow, O child, is but another 
dropping of the great God's tears. Within 
its crystal purity it reflects man." 

Youth: "Behold, O Khadjas, thou hast not 
denied me one sup of wisdom! The bowl 
hath water upon its thirsty lips. But Yester- 
day! — what is Yesterday? Thy lips smile 
and wisdom seemeth pleasurable. Utter." 

Khadjas : "O child, Yesterday is dried in the 
dust of the desert and hath become gold of 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 49 

its dusts. Yet its waters are beneath the 
sands, and the camel sinks his pad upon its 
cool. Yesterday is the water of the earth at 
which all men drink. Tomorrow is born 
unto all men separately, but upon becom- 
ing Yesterday it is a common thing." 

Youth : "Then thy wisdom is a common thing, 
O Khadjas?" 

Khadjas: "O child, all wisdom is a common 
thing, and men seeking treasures overlook 
it." 

Youth: "Adieu, O Khadjas, adieu. Still, 
though the bowl hath one sup I would fill 
it with mine own labour. Tomorrow thou 
shalt look upon the gateway before it opeth 
and thou shalt say : 'The child hath become 
a man. Of wisdom he hath. Naught shall 
decry it'." 

Khadjas: "Nay, O child, I shall say: The 
child hath become a man. Of wisdom he 
hath naught and no man may decry it'." 



50 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL, 

Youth: "O Khadjas, thou art confusion! I, 
the child, tell thee that the caravan shall ride 
forth upon the turquoise sky of Morning 
who weareth pinned upon her bosom a rose 
brilliant; and it shall pass the sea's shore 
where the sea lieth upon the breast of the 

, sand, panting in its embrace; and its locks 
shall be hung of pearls and seaweed and 
coral and little glistening shells; and the 
waters shall breathe new wisdom and the 
packs of the child shall become heavier. And 
when the night cometh with her western sky 
spread with pea-fowl's eyes and purple 
clouds whose lips are rose, and the green of 
the young field seemeth to clasp the sun's 
neck, and the sun blusheth and hideth his 
head, then shall I have reached the side of 
the daughter of Aesol and found — wisdom !" 

Khadjas: "Behold, O child, while thou hast 
worded I have made perfect a bowl !" 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 51 

Youth : "But, O Khadjas, are not my words 
rich as the Orient?" 

Khadjas: "Yea, O child, and as inflamed as 
leprosy. Such words are not the raiment of 
wisdom." 

Youth : "But wouldst thou not robe thy wis- 
dom in gorgeous stuffs?" 

Khadjas : "Nay, for I would have the beggar 
know her. Wisdom is not consorted with 
kings, O child, nor may a king wed her !" 

Youth : "Yet I say, O Khadjas, that tomor- 
row thou shalt sorrow that thou didst not 
recognize within the raiment which I pre- 
sented thee the wisdom which is mine." 

Khadjas: "Tomorrow, O child, there is more 
clay and more water." 

Youth : "But thy pots, O Khadjas, set in their 
squat folly upon the narrow shelves of thy 
being and become nothing but pots, while I, 



52 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

who despise the wheel, become a man among 
men." 

Khadjas : "Yet, O child, not less a pot whose 
office is to contain ! Be thou fashioned with 
a narrow throat 'tis thy agony I" 

Youth : "I am confused by thy tongue's lash, 
O Khadjas. It is cutting as the sands in the 
winds." 

Khadjas : "Yea, thou hast spoken well. Thou 
art confused at the tongue's lash. For that 
reason thy wisdom hath no edge. He who 
would war wisdom should fling not sand. 
Sand is but confusing to the fool — and I 
have but cast sand !" 

Youth: "Enough, O Khadjas, I shall go 
forth. Why, oh why, have I thirsted to re- 
turn to thee, thou hunched beggar with the 
wheel between thy crossed legs and thy 
horny hands cunningly slipping o'er the clay ! 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 53 

Is thy wisdom magic ? Has thy wisdom be- 
witched me ? What is this thirst ?" 

Khadjas: "It is the thirst of the clay for 
the water." 



VI. 

(Other years have passed. Pale stars gaze down from 
a dull grey sky upon a desert, somber and limitless. 
Amid the deathy silence, across the wastes, winds a car- 
avan, all in black — men, clothing, trappings, all black as 
the wings of the vultures which slowly circle high after 
the slipping camels as they make their way toward the 
desert city. Over all is sifted the grey dust-sand of the 
paths, turning the black to ashes. As the giant caravan 
turns its head up to the gate of the city and pauses before 
it, the packs show clearer and on the lead camel is seen 
bound a babe, swathed in many windings of black and 
showing the sunken eyes and checks of death to which 
days and sun-smite have given a ghastly hue. Behind 
the lead camel comes another with a black and closed 
habah. Before the gate comes now the Youth with 
anxious eyes and bowed head. The Night hears his voice 
in silence.) 

Youth : "Behold, O thou city's gateway! Be-i 
hold, o'er the sands which are as ash beneath 
the leaden sky, beside the dark shadows and 
leading a caravan draped in sable, behold 
me, the child no longer, returned ! Returned 
unto thy arch, O gateway, calling alms! 
alms! alms! 



56 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"List, O thou mute fellow, list! Behold 
the camels slipping their tread toward thee, 
each bowed beneath his pack. And the trap- 
pings are black as the midnight, and there 
is no mark upon them, for he who hath writ 
them with a symbol of his rank no longer is 
among men declaiming himself. 

"O City, thy lips are mute. Yea, but the 
morning shall open them, for the gateman 
shall swing ope the gateway and I may pro- 
ceed unto the man among thy men who pos- 
sesseth the treasure of Kings. He is naked 
and his feet are bared, and his hands are 
cupped by the laying upon the clay. Oh, I, 
the child, have returned, grown old in so 
short a season ! Behold, the lips of the daugh- 
ter of Aesol held wisdom which I drank, and 
the flower of that wisdom hath withered and 
died. Oh, the lips of the daughter of Aesol 
are heavy and will not utter words. Sorrow 
hath laid her hand upon them and their scar- 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 57 

let flashing hath paled as the sun beneath 
the clouds' kiss. 

"O list, ye empty skies ! I have cried out 
unto thee for wisdom, and been answered 
by the cry of vultures, which follow with 
evil wings the caravan to devour the flower 
of my wisdom. 

"Behold me, O thou pale stars! Behold 
me, no longer a child, but distraught of my 
agony that I shall lead forth the caravan 
unto the feet of Khadjas offering him their 
goods for the sup of wisdom for which I 
thirst. Oh, I am a desert beneath the sun 
of sorrow and the fire of my agony de- 
stroyeth the herbage of my heart ! The seven 
gods of the seven lands laugh, or stare ston- 
ily forth unto the ash-covered night. Would 
that I were a magian who possessed an 
urn of silver. I would be even so silent as 
the night with her urn of silver upon her 
shoulder, pouring the soothing fount of her 
prayerful breath unto the parched earth. 



58 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"I would place within the urn my prayers 
and go forth unto Eternity calling my God, 
with my hands grown into talons from the 
flights of the eagle's-heights of sorrow! 
Now would I swoop down like him from the 
heights and bathe in some cool pool. 

"Ope, thou mute lips of the city! Ope, 
ope! See! Already upon the eastern sky 
the ashen cheek of morning hath become 
paled as a yellow rose. Bestir thee, O men! 
I, the child, the little child with an empty 
bowl, return calling open ! open ! open ! In 
the name of mercy, open ! Alms ! alms ! alms ! 

"Hasten thy hands, O thou gatesman. 
Fling it open. Proceed, O thou my caravan ! 
Go forth, kneeling before Khadjas. 

"Khadjas! Khadjas! Behold the child, 
returning! Look up from thy moulding. 
Behold him ; he is no longer a youth but be- 
come aged with a stern wisdom. Behold, 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 59 

before thee kneeleth his caravan! Each 
camel shall pay obeisance and become thine 
— each camel and its pack shall become thy 
goods. Behold, O Khadjas, yon is the daugh- 
ter of Aesol. I have brought her forth that 
thou mightst look unto her wisdom, but be- 
hold, her wisdom is mute ; her lips are locked 
with a golden key and her eyes weep rubies, 
each a drop of her heart's blood. 

"Behold, did I not speak that when I 
should return my caravan would reach be- 
yond the city's way and well into the desert ? 
Even so it is. The gods of the seven tongues 
and seven peoples are mute while I list, O 
Khadjas, for thy wisdom. 

"Behold, into my caravan hath been set 
a score of white camels, each with a necklet 
of gold and draped of sable. These, even 
upon stepping, dispense the scent of spice 
and myrrh, and the airs about them bear 
heavy dreams. All of this is thine, O Khad- 



60 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

jas, canst thou unmask the day that hath 
hidden from me. Take thou the caravan and 
its pack, oh, thou mute wise man, but behold 
this, the fore which leadeth. Oh, his pack is 
light, his tread is heavy and his eyes drip 
thick tears, for his burden is the jewel of 
the crown of the daughter of Aesol ! 

"It was a pale opal, burning as the yellow 
sun, and the night hath lain upon it, and it 
is now but a yellowed leaf of the lotus, 
writhing beneath the hot tears of our sor- 
row. 

"Where is thy wisdom, O Khadjas, before 
this thing? The heavy-winged bee lingers 
about the dying lotus but the vulture 
swoopeth down upon the child of wisdom, 
yet thou wouldst declare a God ! 

"O Khadjas, did I not say that I would 
show thee a foreshortened pathway unto 
wisdom? I found it upon the lips of the 
daughter of Aesol. Yea, and drank from its 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 61 

well and behold, the wisdom flowered and I 
listened unto new music and new words of 
wise import no man had e'er listened unto. 
But they have stopped, and I stand before 
thee asking alms ! alms ! alms ! 

"The caravan is thine. No longer the 
jewels delight me since I may not hang them 
about the neck of my beloved, the pale opal. 
Thy hands are idle, O Khadjas. What is 
this ? Is thy heart at last turned and wouldst 
thou partake of the goods and discourse 
wisely unto this hungered breast? I am no 
longer a child, but aged. Speak, with thy 
tongue, aged wisdom/' 

Khadjas: "O child! O child! O child!" 

Youth : "O Khadjas, is thy word rebuking?" 

Khadjas: "O child, thou hast returned with 
thy colored toys, and they are broken. For 
the bubble blown on thy dreams hath been 
pricked. Speak in command. Bid that thy 



62 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

caravan withdraw. Thy goods shall be of 
no price unto Khadjas. Bid that the fore- 
camel come forth and kneel. There is the 
price of wisdom Khadjas would demand — 
the pale opal, the withering lotus leaf." 

Youth: "O Khadjas, thou speakest unto a 
child ! I am aged and my days I have spent 
for the purchase of the opal. Thinkest thou 
then that I shall deliver it up ? Nay, the car- 
avan and its packs are thine, but the pale 
opal! — nay, Khadjas, nay!" 

Khadjas : "Then depart ! Look yon, the vul- 
ture circles, writing death upon the sky." 

Youth: "Stop them, O Khadjas! Stop them! 
Bring them down with a barb of thy wis- 
dom. I have watched them as the lotus leaf 
hath seared. Oh, behold! Look! There is 
naught now but the seared petal. Wouldst 
thou deny me this ?" 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 63 

Khadjas: "Depart! Depart, O child, for thy 
faith is weak. The price that Khadjas would 
demand is the pale opal. Give it unto his 
hands. He hath given freely unto thee with 
no return. Whither wouldst thou go with 
thy gem ? On across the desert way, watch- 
ing the petal become ash, departing, de- 
parting, departing from thee each hour, 
leaving thee but more agony to behold it? 
Give it unto the hand of Khadjas, for the 
day is come and it foretelleth of a noon whose 
fire shall lick the heavens, becoming winds 
that shall sear all things. And look, yon is 
the vulture!" 

Youth: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, canst thou? 
It is not mine. Yon is the daughter of Aesol 
and her breast is cold for the touch of the 
opal's fire." 

Khadjas: "O child, child, child! The daugh- 
ter of Aesol would ne'er deny the hand of 
Khadjas." 



64 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Youth : "What, what shalt thou do with this 
jewel, O Khadjas, do I deliver it?" 

Khadjas: "Ask me not, O child; deliver it." 

Youth: "Behold me, O Khadjas, behold me! 
My hands are as empty boats upon a storm- 
cast sea. Behold me, O Khadjas, behold me! 
It is alms, alms, alms ! In the name of mercy 
deny me not alms !" 

Khadjas: "Deliver up the pale opal and I 
shall cast thee wisdom. It may be bitter but 
it shall be wisdom." 

Youth : "But, O Khadjas, knowest thou not 
unto thee the young flower of my wisdom 
is naught, and unto me, O Khadjas, thy wis- 
dom holdeth no thing so precious ? Take the 
caravan, or even — the daughter of Aesol!" 

Khadjas: "Nay, the pale opal. O child, re- 
member, remember the morning when thou 
didst fare forth with thy bowl to fill it up 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 65 

with the stars and let the circlet moon rest 
upon its rim and thou didst return with 
stones. And thou hast tortured the days with 
thirsting and bought of the days with thy 
pence of wisdom, returning unto me with 
thy caravan of empty stuffs. No thing thou 
possesseth may speak. Dumbly they gaze up 
unto thy agony. No part of thy caravan 
maketh thee homage save the camels which 
bear thee. Call unto the Eastway, Tool!' 
O child!" 

Youth: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, despise me 
not ! I am thirsted. I have offered thee the 
caravan for a sup !" 

Khadjas: "O child, lift up thine eyes unto 
Khadjas, and inquire, proffering thy bowl 
with the pale opal upon its lips/' 

Youth: "Behold, O Khadjas, I come. The 
cup that I offer is a yellow lotus, decaying. 
Yet, yet — Oh, take it! Take my hand, O 



66 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Khadjas; I feel the years leaving me as the 
fronds drop from the palms." 

Khadjas: "O child, O child, O child! Thy 
wisdom is beauteous. Khadjas drinketh 
from the withering lotus and is revived. Be- 
hold, beneath the frost-touch of the moon, 
in a cool retreat where the stone retains 
the drops and the herbage gathers, shall 
Khadjas lay the pale opal, and seal the spot 
with clay he hath made with his own hands, 
wet with his tears." 

Youth: "But, O Khadjas, which way shall 
the child seek?" 

Khadjas: "Behold, O child, about thy neck 
is hung the golden opal, and the lips of the 
daughter of Aesol shall open, for the thing 
that is done shall unlock them. Yon, O child, 
is the East gate and yon the West. Either 
way thou mayst make thy path, but goest 
thou unto the East thou shalt go but with 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 67 

one camel and the daughter of Aesol. Goest 
thou unto the West, thy caravan shall follow 
thee. Whither, O child?" 

Youth: "O Khadjas, I would look upon thy 
labour. Make me a bowl like unto me." 

Khadjas : "It shall be as thou hast wished, O 
child. Behold, Khadjas taketh up a bowl 
already dried and shaketh the water upon 
it but it will not yield. Consider, O child, 
consider this. 

"Depart. Hearest thou not the whisper- 
ing voices of the earth ? There is a new day 
and thou hast bought one tongue for one 
god. The seven gods have been mute but 
thou hast heard the voice of a God. Canst 
thou hear, O child, the word He called ?" 

Youth : "Nay, thy words are sealed pits." 

Khadjas : "Then child, behold thy heart. The 
word He spake hath torn it asunder. Ponder 
upon it. This mighty God bent down from 



68 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

on high and called thy name. The weight of 
His word hath split thy heart. But thou shalt 
carry it as a pack — remember it! Behold 
the Eastway and the Westway. Whither? 
Thy camels are restless and the curtains 
about the daughter of Aesol move. Oh 
whither, child, whither?" 

Youth : "Khadjas, like unto the child I have 
delivered up the yellow opal. But the day 
that awaiteth is not a child's day. I have 
supped the sup, O Khadjas. The lotus 
which is dead shall wither and become dust 
about the pool's edge. It is well. Though 
thy wisdom hath a barb, mine agony hath 
departed in the giving. I hear the voice of 
the daughter of Aesol and her words woo. 
Her heart hath awakened from its sleeping. 
Harken ! I have made the call unto the camel 
men. Behold the sun is sinking. I shall ride 
forth into its red light, for the hand of 
morning beckons. O Khadjas, thy wisdom 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 69 

is for the child, and I am becoming aged in 
the new hours. 

Khadjas: "O child, O child, O child! Thou 
shalt return calling alms ! alms ! alms ! in the 
name of mercy, alms !" 

"Lo, he hath gone. O child, Khadjas 
holdeth thy talisman, the pale opal, but it is 
a thing which is no more ; for only beneath 
the hand of imagination may the pot be 
turned into being. Thy pledge is within its 
ash ! Thou shalt return crying alms ! alms ! 
alms ! in the name of mercy, alms !" 



(The black-clad caravan winds its way into the setting 
sun, The Youth rides with the daughter of Aesol, striv- 
ing in her presence to forget the bitter wisdom of the 
potter.) 

Youth: "Oh, my beloved, the daughter of 
Aesol, behold the morning is come, and we 
ride Westward before the sun. Already are 
the hands of the camel men removing the 



70 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

sable. I would weave a new raiment of yel- 
low, saffron, marked of gold and the feather 
of the peafowl. I would stain them deep 
and mark them heavy of the metal of bur- 
nished copper. 

"Lo, I would adorn thee in purple w T ith a 
necklace of green opals. Aye, and a circlet 
of turquoise within thy night-black locks. I 
would offer thee the wine of the jasmine 
honey from a cup of jade. I will make thy 
slaves of saffron skins, loined w r ith cloths 
of green; and they shall pay obeisance be- 
fore thee, O my beloved, as thou awaitest 
awakening. 

"Behold, if thou hast given up the pale 
opal, then shalt thy beloved bring forth the 
treasures of the earth and lay before thee! 
Speak ! Utter unto flesh thy dearest wish !" 

Daughter of Aesol: "I am languorous, oh 
my beloved, and the scent of the sands hath 
sickened me. I would repine apart in some 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 71 

jasmine-hung bower. I would keep my breast 
warm for it is stricken cold. 

"But harken unto the daughter of Aesol. 
Make ye Westward, for the gates of the 
cities shall fall open before thee, and thy 
hand shall conquer hosts. In that we have 
been called upon to deliver up the keystone 
of the arch unto the land of our spirits, thou 
shalt then make conquest upon the earth, 
causing men to make the cup full of their 
own blood, the blood of men ! 

"See, thy beloved would offer not her 
arms, but this, the blade; keen, aye, and 
whose tongue mingleth with the wise man's 
flesh or the fool's, little caring! 

"Oh, my beloved, the god of wisdom hath 
not eyes within his eye's pits nor tongue 
within his jaws, but his belly is, and is ever 
hungered. Wisdom may not be drunk from 
bowls, O my beloved, nor may it be tortured 
out from clay beneath the potter's hand. 



72 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Wisdom is found in the throats that crush 
beneath thy hands, within the bellow of 
rage from him whom thou hast dealt a blow 
of felling. It is found in the cunning thou 
weavest to cloak thy day. 

"Begone! The daughter of x\esol would 
deny thee her lips. Bring unto her feet seven 
score and seven slaves, and thine enemies 
— not dead but tortured; each with his 
throat slit f oozing forth his blood ! I would 
laugh a new fury upon them ! I would dance 
before thee within a robe of saffron em- 
blazoned with their blood. Oh, I would deck 
me in evil rubies, lustfully gleaming! 

"Oh, my beloved, thy love hath become 
new in this thing which is upon her. Behold 
her as a leopard, crouched, licking her jaws 
and panting ! Ride Westward, into the cave 
of the Day, pitlike, beyond the sun's seeking 
dark. But tomorrow cometh and thou shalt 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 73 

go forth with the blade and the kiss of the 
daughter of Aesol upon its edge ! 

"Answer me, O my love ! Make no word, 
but crush the flesh which is mine within thy 
embrace, and swear with heavy lips upon 
mine!" 

Youth : "I am drunk, drunk upon thy words, 
and new furies arise within my breast. 
Within the purple depths of thy night-dark 
eyes I have beheld a star and it is the star of 
fury. It is the symbol of wars and blood. 
Already I feel my hands upon the throats of 
mine enemies, and the power with which I 
shall crush them! 

"Give me thy lips, O my beloved, and we 
go forth. Who is he who stands at the 
desert's edge weeping and calling Alms, 
alms, alms ? But a phantom ! 

"Oh my beloved, behold, the West way is 
open before us !" 



VII. 



(Again the* years sweep their rounds, but still is Khad- 
jas sitting, turning the pot upon his wheel. The day arises 
as of old and the path shows a running child approaching 
the bin of Khadjas.) 

Child: "O Khadjas, Khadjas! Without the 
city's gateway hath ridden a caravan which 
reacheth as a girdle about the earth ! And 
he who is upon the lead camel laughs, laughs 
down at the lepers and sees no man. He 
hath spat even upon them who offered serv- 
ice. What is thy wisdom of such a man? ,, 

Khadjas: There is no wisdom. The well 
hath gone dry. He hath a caravan which 
girdles the earth, yet not one drop may he 
buy. Khadjas laugheth for there is still 
water for the mouldings, yea, and pots cry- 
ing out to be." 

75 



76 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Child: "This man, O Khadjas, hath called 
thee to come forth unto his side for he would 
laugh at thy wisdom." 

Khadjas: "The jest shall be denied him. 
Khadjas knoweth no pathway unto him." 

Child: "What is thy answer, O Khadjas ?" 

Khadjas: "This: the jest lies at the end of 
the path unto here, and I have said not who 
shall laugh, but the throat of Khadjas 
tickleth !" 

Child: "He hath bid that I haste in return- 
ing unto him." 

Khadjas : "Then haste thy legs, for the words 
of Khadjas are slow." 

Child: "Look thou! he is overcome by his 
haste ; for the camels wind their way hither. 
Behold his raiment ; it glittereth as the desert 
at the early morn when the sun maketh it to 
leap forth in glistening." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 77 

(Camels with gorgeous trappings crowd their way to- 
ward the place. Scores on scores, led by screaming camel 
men file in to fill each space within the gates leaving more 
scores in vast confusion without. Gold studded packs 
and trappings show riches beyond the fairest dreams. 
Slaves in troops, black and yellow, stand beneath their 
keeper's lash bowed and dumb. At their lead comes one 
in silks, white and scarlet, with haughty bearing, striding 
with scornful mien toward the bin of Khadjas.) 

Warrior: "O Khadjas, behold me whom thou 
despiseth. For I am returned, bearing thee 
the goods which my wisdom hath bought. 
Look upon the flesh of slaves which no man 
may measure, and the camels, each sagged 
beneath its pack, and the daughter of Aesol, 
more beauteous than the night in her jewels 
and with her lips veiled with a silver scarf. 
"Behold them that I have conquered, each 
bowed beneath the yoke of servitude. I have 
crushed the day as a vatman crusheth the 
grape, and behold its wine! It is red of 
blood and danceth in fearing. I may reach 
forth my hand and all men beneath me 
shrink as though a lash had fallen. What 



78 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

power is this if it be not wisdom? Speak! 
the answer is not within a pot !" 

Khadjas: "Nay, the answer would ne'er fill 
it." 

Warrior: "What then is this power?" 

Khadjas: "The power of folly; for, O child, 
know this: no man hath power like a fool, 
for he knoweth not its beginning nor its 
end." 

Warrior : "O Khadjas, behold thy hands. They 
have become but the talons of a bird. They 
shake in their laboring and the clay shows 
their marring. The pots are awry and still 
thou chatterest wisdom !" 

Khadjas : "This is thy folly, child. The shak- 
ing of the hand of Khadjas but creates new 
patterns upon the clay. And the crooked 
pots are the best from which to drink wis- 
dom for the crooked day. They who thirst 
see not the cup/' 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 79 

Warrior: "Come, Khadjas, yon is a camel 
and here is a golden chain. Rest thy hands. 
Let thy wisdom play; it is weary of labour." 

Khadjas: "Nay child, nay; Khadjas would 
not be enslaved upon a golden chain nor let 
his wisdom know that its labour was fin- 
ished." 

Warrior: "Give me a sup, O Khadjas. From 
traversing the sands my thirst crieth out. 
Present unto my hands a bowl of thine own 
fashioning; and water, not of wisdom but 
water of yon well." 

Khadjas: "Descend, O child, descend upon 
the stones whereupon thou once didst tread. 
Khadjas may not arise to deliver water unto 
thy hand, though he would kneel to give thee 
wisdom." 

Warrior: "But, O Khadjas, I may call forth 
slaves to lay upon thee the lash which shall 



80 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

nimble thy feet. What! thou wouldst loose 
the cackle of thy laughter !" 

Khadjas: "Yea, child, for the lash of thy 
wisdom is so thin that Khadjas would but 
feel it as the smite of a straw. What br ing- 
est thee, O child, unto the side of Khadjas? 
Thy wisdom ne'er did lead thee forth, for 
she knoweth full well the jest was upon thee. 

"Behold, Khadjas shall mould a new pot 
and in his wisdom make words of prophecy. 

"Beholci, Khadjas seeth thee and thy cara- 
vans following thee, girdling the earth, and 
behold, thy camels become stricken of thirst 
and fall like flies before the simoon. But 
thou shalt recline within the arms of the 
daughter of Aesol, and thy goods shall be 
taken up upon a pillar of sand and crushed 
beneath its gold, leaving thee naught. And 
thou shalt seek, seek through the desert's 
way, for an oasis, bidding thy wisdom show 
thee. 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 81 

"And behold, thou shalt see Khadjas at 
the wheel, and the water dripping upon the 
clay, and thou shalt fling forth the daughter 
of Aesol, watching the vultures feast upon 
her breasts and weave garlands of her hair. 
And the adornments thou hast bestowed 
upon her shall clink, clink, clink, thirstily. 

"And Khadjas hath laid the pale opal be- 
side the well. And thou shalt thirst and the 
sands shall choke thee and thou shalt seek 
Khadjas at the wheel, and the well. Oh, 
with thy wisdom, child, thou mayst not 
pluck up the well and take it forth upon the 
backs of thy camels ! The wisdom of Khad- 
jas is even so. 

"What, O child, save pebbles hast thou 
found upon the West way ?" 

Warrior: "Behold it, O Khadjas. Callest 
thou such a caravan pebbles ?" 



82 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Khadjas: "I have beheld babes playing with 
colored bits, and their argument was as 
thine. 

"Behold this, the palm of Khadjas, thick 
as the hide of goat. Purchase such! That 
thirst which hath brought thee unto the side 
of Khadjas shall beckon thee ever through 
thy days of conquest. 

"O child, thou hast asked Khadjas, in thy 
youth, how looks wisdom. She is wan of 
waiting. She kneels beside thy dead self 
weeping. Her cheek is ashen and nothing 
save thy kiss may bring its color surging." 



VIII. 

(The warrior has long departed from the side of Khad- 
jas. But the beckoning of the withered lotus never 
ceases. Many lines of pots have been called into being by 
the hand of the potter, to be sought by the people for 
their use. Time again brings a caravan to the city gates. 
The camels are without useless trappings. The goods are 
many and rich, but no adornment shows on beast or man. 
It is the caravan of a merchant and speaks of cold bar- 
tering. Such is the mien of him who approaches with 
officious accents.) 

Tradesman: "Thou fellower of swine, open 
up the gateway ! Make haste thy hands, for 
he w T ho would enter is neither thy fellow nor 
the fellow of any man within thy walls. 
Behold, the camels are barren save of their 
packs, and the camel men walk silent be- 
side them; for I, the child no longer, have 
found men not my brothers, I have un- 
wound their cunning weaving, and lo, know 
their trick. 

83 



84 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"Ope the gate I I would go unto Khadjas 
and make my despisal of his wisdom. Make 
way that the caravan pass and make the 
name of Khadjas upon my lips soundful! 

"Khadjas! Khadjas! The cunning of 
thy wisdom I have unwound as a child un- 
winds a ball of silken cord, and I have found 
no God upon its end but thine. Thou hast 
uttered prophecy and thy prophecy hath be- 
come fruitful, fruitful. But the caravan re- 
maineth. Yea, but the camels no longer sag 
beneath the weight of men; for no man is 
so exalted in the day which is mine that I 
would raise him up even unto a camel's 
height. 

"I have found, O Khadjas, that thy words 
of God are empty. The brass bowl hath be- 
come worn and bended from dipping within 
a dry well. While thou wouldst sing ot this 
God which is merciful, behold, the work of 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 85 

His wrath descends upon me. Where is the 
well of thy wisdom? I have thirsted long.'' 

Khadjas: "O child, child, thou returnest! 
Didst thou not say that the well of wisdom 
was upon the lips of the daughter of Aesol ? 
Where is she, that thou mayest recline upon 
her bosom and laugh upon men at the seek- 
ing of their wisdom? Speak! In this wis- 
dom thou hast found is there no water to 
quench thy thirst ?" 

Tradesman: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, I, the 
child no longer, declare my despisal of all 
mankind. The daughter of Aesol was as a 
leprous wind which blew across the herbage, 
blighting it. Her kisses became sores that 
ate, and her arms were white cobras, yel- 
lowed of age, and the venom of their em- 
brace was a thing that crushed me. Her 
lips were as a cavernous ope which roared 
hungrily of emptiness. The wisdom that I 



86 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

drank from the daughter of Aesol may be 
drunk from the prints of swine's hoofs. 

"O Khadjas, I declare my folly and I ac- 
claim thine ! Within thy wisdom there is no 
answer for the thing I have found. How 
mayest thou, a fellower of pots, under- 
stand?" 

Khadjas: "O child, thy folly is indeed great. 
Knowest thou not that woman is the cunning 
pot, fashioned out by the tenderest touch 
of the Potter? The daughter of Aesol is 
but the mask of thy folly. Speak! how did 
she defile thy wisdom ?" 

Tradesman : "O Khadjas, I upon the back of 
the camel, beheld the yellow sun streaking 
the ashen sky with gold and enchaining the 
silver stars upon the golden chain; and the 
languorous night remained upon the horizon 
at the West way. And I, upon the bosom of 
the daughter of Aesol, bespoke its beauty 
while she besought me to forget the sky and 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 87 

look upon her lips. Lo, she took up my day 
as a wetted cloth and wrung it dry. 

"And the sun became a disc of brass, and 
the stars rust-bit holes within the silver bowl 
of the sky, letting the empty light through. 
And the moon at night seemed a mocking 
thing, the opening the God had left to con- 
vince man of the emptiness of eternity. Thy 
wisdom, O Khadjas, hath a cunning task, 
far o'er the moulding of a pot of fresh clay. 
Behold me, broken, yet complete in mine 
atoms. Assemble me !" 

Khadjas : "O child, thou hast but drunk from 
the bitter waters all men sup. There is no 
potion which seareth the soul and drunkens 
wisdom as doth the amours of flesh. Thou 
hast drunk not from the lips of the cool bowl 
but upon the fever of flesh. 

"O beloved, now doth Khadjas speak 
thy name 'beloved/ for sympathy hath be- 
come a part of his wisdom. Thou hast be- 



88 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

come as pebbles beneath the smiting and 
shall lie as such beneath the brook of wis- 
dom, becoming cool and cleansed. Thou 
shalt become assembled, O child, beneath 
the Potter's hands, but the waters of the 
brook shall wear thy pebbles smooth and 
crush thee unto dust, thence unto clay. And 
the hand of the Potter shall be busied and 
He shall not mould until He hath wept upon 
the clay. And the clay shall be mute, con- 
taining all the agonies thou hast taken in, 
and the empty days shall have left thee at 
the breaking. And the empty symbols of the 
empty gods also. And the Potter shall weep, 
and behold, in His tears shall be born a new 
creation and thou shalt become anew be- 
neath His hand. 

"But the clay thou wert shall have be- 
come dust not in vain, for from out its 
crumbling shall the dream of the Potter leap, 
and each atom shall lend of its agony that 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 89 

it become a part of the torturous creation of 
this dream. And the wheel shall turn, and 
the sun of eternity shall encompass the pot, 
and it shall have no shadow upon it." 

Tradesman: "Oh, this is confusion, Khadjas. 
I have found men full of words and empty 
of wisdom, but thy wisdom is emptier than 
theirs and thy words more confusion. Make 
me some simple symbol of wisdom. I weary 
of the deserts of day. Men lie like wolves 
upon their bellies, panting and lustful-hun- 
gry, that they beset me. And it hath be- 
come a trick that I may hide my cunning 
from their eyes and retain even my goods. 
How may a man feed a wolf wisdom when 
he seeketh bone?" 

Khadjas: "O child! O child! Thou art still 
playing about the market's ways with col- 
ored toys while thy hand hath moulded no 
thing which containeth thy soul. Never, O 



90 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

child, mayest thou know thy soul until thou 
hast created its symbol before thine eyes." 

Tradesman: "Behold then, O Khadjas, thy 
soul is but a hideous, twisted bowl." 

Khadjas: "Yea, yea, yea, O child, but men 
drink and are sustained from them!" 

Tradesman : "There is no thing in thy argu- 
ment, no pith, O Khadjas ! Thy words seem, 
but are not." 

Khadjas: "But words mould not, O child. 
Behold the pots. What thing in thy caravan 
hast thou that thy hands have tortured out?" 

Tradesman: "Naught, O Khadjas, save a 
necklet which I carved of gold for the neck 
of the daughter of Aesol." 

Khadjas: "O child! O child! O child! A 
trinket in which to deck thy vanity! Such 
labour is but babe's play. Is there no thing 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 91 

which hath caused thee tears ? Thou stand- 
est silent. Khadjas hath hope." 

Tradesman: "Yea, there is cloth, a cloth, 
which I hung with opals, to cover the wither- 
ing lotus. It hath my tears upon its border 
and I have wept my heart's bleeding upon its 
folds. With my hands I wove the cloth, la- 
menting in each shadow as we passed the 
scorched day of the desert. This is a labour, 

Khadjas? Speak!" 

Khadjas : "Nay, for the cloth was but a robe 
of rich stuffs in which to clothe thyself." 

Tradesman : 'Then, O Khadjas, it is useless. 

1 might not weep within the desert sand and 
mould a bowl !" 

Khadjas: "Nay, but thou mayst take up the 
clay of the day and let the caravan sweep 
through the west gate while thou awaitest 
the morning for the beginning of the mould- 
ing of thy soul." 



92 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Tradesman: "Thou wouldst have the child 
who hath become aged in his wisdom begin 
the day, the new morrow, sitting cross- 
legged beside a wheel, letting his caravan go 
whitherward, while his hands, unaccustomed 
to labour, begin their task? O Khadjas, the 
God thou pratest of is silent. I have listened 
for His voice and have never heard it." 

Khadjas: "Hark! O child, is the stirring 
within the fig tree the breath of the desert, 
or is it tomorrow already beginning to un- 
fold? 

"If thou dost thirst, go forth unto yon 
well and behold there the lotus upon its lips, 
and the honey bee lingereth within its heart ; 
and the vultures are yon, yon. This is the 
thirst, O child, which hath consumed thee. 
Thou hast denied the voice of God, but thou 
hast drunk it from out the lips of the with- 
ered lotus and acknowledged it not. And lo, 
it was mute, and thou didst possess but the 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 93 

withered lotus and the voice was gone. Yet 
its echo hath enticed thee here !" 

Tradesman : "O Khadjas, thy voice is as the 
sound of wood knocking upon wood. There 
is no music of truth in thy words. The thirst 
which is upon me is no new thing. I have 
drunk from, the cups of men and their gods 
— or the things they call their gods — and be- 
hold, still is my tongue as dry as the desert 
and my throat filled with dust. Even thy 
wisdom drieth upon such a heated fire as my 
throat. 

"And thou hast no new wisdom? Behold 
the thing thou ofiferest is the same thou didst 
deal upon the first morning I sought thy 
side. What is thy answer, O Khadjas? Is 
thy wisdom then ended and dost thou know 
no new thing?" 

Khadjas: "O child, wisdom is not a toy 
turned out beneath the hand of a fool each 



94 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

morrow. Nay, the men of today play with 
the wisdom the first man played upon. Aye, 
and it is the same, though more smooth- 
worn and more companionable. Look thou ! 
there is no new wisdom in the making of a 
pot. Nay; each potter turneth his wheel at 
his hand's touch, either swift or slow, and 
the pot upon the wheel may be beauteous or 
of coarse stufif ; it mattereth not, either. It 
be a pot, and hath a bottom on which to 
stand, ancl sides, and containeth that which 
man pours into it. There is no new wisdom 
in the pot." 

Tradesman : "But this God, this cunning God, 
of whom thou pratest; hath He no new 
thing?" 

Khadjas : "O child, this is the cry of the babe 
each morning. It is not thy cunning prompts 
this, 'tis thy folly, child. Unto thy listening 
ear thy knowledge is wisdom, and new, but 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 95 

the souls of thy ancients have writhed o'er 
thy question. 

Thou hast traversed the earth, taking up 
the stores of the land and acclaiming them 
thine, while thy pathways are decaying and 
thy wisdoms are riping like figs before the 
sun. But thou art not hungered for the 
sweets of figs. Nay, thou wouldst drink 
strong wines such as make Youth full-prided 
and sure of his wisdom though unsure of his 
legs! 

"Nay child, wisdom is not new. It is the 
coin the great God lended unto men, and its 
face hath not changed nor hath its substance 
worn. It remaineth always the same, and it 
purchaseth now as then, and then as now. 

"Thou hast let thy thirst for goods make 
thy wisdom lean and thy folly fat. Thou 
hast hung thy limbs with cloth and left thy 
breast bare. Then is it meet that thou 
shouldst come for new wisdom when thou 



96 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

hast ne'er used that which Khadjas delivered 
unto thee ? 

"Speak! Tell unto the ear of Khadjas the 
thing thou hast learned of the day sufficient 
to cease thy hunger. Is thy spirit become 
reconciled unto its abode of flesh ?" 

Tradesman: "O Khadjas, I am no longer a 
part of the great game, Day. The take and 
give no longer beckoneth. What matter it 
that my caravan hath sevenfold multiplied? 
For lo, F may but see yon and know its end. 
There is no word among men but begging or 
whining — the whine of humility beneath the 
lash, and the begging of them that would 
take from thee. 

"O Khadjas, I found among men no man 
such as thy spirit singeth of. Thou hast 
spoken true-tuned word, and I listened and 
went forth assured of finding among men 
brothers who spoke profoundly, resounding 
the depths of their souls, and I expected con- 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 97 

fidently that man would listen unto my deal- 
ing of wisdom in pleasurable silence. But 
alas ! O Khadjas, men are fools ; they have 
no part with the men thou didst sing of." 

Khadjas: "O child, the lips of Khadjas smile, 
for who may clink coins and bart while he 
exchangeth garments with a man's soul? 
The spirit hath no goods, O child, save its 
wisdom, and these goods may not be pur- 
chased save by understanding." 

Tradesman: 'This is wisely put, O Khadjas! 
I, the child, then, have forgotten this and 
thou wouldst rebuke. I have come forth 
before thine eyes and listened unto thy wis- 
dom, displaying my goods and offering not 
the coin of understanding. I am weary of 
this office, this attainment, this exaltation. 
I am weary of the armors which I perforce 
must wear. I would make me naked, O 
Khadjas, and as a child who wears naught 



98 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

but a loin cloth, I would make forth with 
the bowl in my hand and crying my thirst. 
I shall call the caravan forth and announce 
my going forth from the city. I shall sit 
upon the fore camel and seek the thing with 
more humility." 

Khadjas: "O child, he who seeketh wisdom 
doth not ride." 

Tradesman: 'Then I shall follow the cara- 
van." 

Khadjas: "O child, the caravan leadeth unto 
the market ways, not unto the well of wis- 
dom, for the water they seek is the water 
which stops the camel's thirst." 

Tradesman: "How wouldst thou, O Khadjas, 
that I should make my way?" 

Khadjas : "I have no answer, O child. With- 
in the pot there is no desire but to become 
a pot; and it becometh the thing." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 99 

Tradesman : "Behold, O Khadjas, I shall bid 
thee farewell and go forth with confidence 
anew. The trade winds shall follow the 
course, and I, the child, shall not follow 
them. I would go unto the well's side where 
the pale opal lies, but the camels rise and 
already the sounds of the camel men bespeak 
the time that we shall proceed. 

"Thy wisdom bespeaks a God, O Khadjas, 
but I may not take this thing in." 

Khadjas : "O child, the gates of the city open 
four ways. Wouldst that thou mightest let 
thy camels make these ways their paths, and 
watch thy wisdom become broken up; then 
thou mightest behold the cloth of wisdom 
which hangs upon the loom of folly." 

Tradesman: "Thy words are confusion, O 
Khadjas, and thine aged whining becometh 
hateful. There is within thy wisdom no 
cunning. And wisdom which must with- 
stand the day needeth cunning." 



100 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Khadjas : "Cunning, O child, is not a part of 
wisdom. It is the cord which some fools tie 
about it and in confidence believe they have 
captured wisdom. Cunning is the power be- 
neath the fingers' tips, helplessly lying, and 
man setteth it either at wrong-doing or at 
creation." 

(The Tradesman mounts his camel and rides into the 
sands.) 

Khadjas : "Lo, he hath gone. The pot turneth 
slowly. And what clay ! what clay !" 



IX. 

(Many years have passed, and beneath the sun's fierce rays, 
over the pitiless sards, slips wearily a lone camel and its 
rider. The far horizon shows at last the city's dreary walls 
and a spot of green. The calm, tired eyes of the rider light 
up with a meagre pleasure at the sight and the voice begins 
a murmur.) 

Pilgrim: "Where is the caravan which 
wended its way forth from out these sands? 
Upon the four ways, indeed, it hath scat- 
tered. The sands of the simoon have de- 
scended with its wrath upon the crawling 
thing and behold, where is its substance? 
"So this is the might of the God of 
Khadjas. Even as he foretold, it hath come 
to pass. Yea, but the simoon was the wick- 
edness of man and the deceit of commerce. 
That which wisdom brought together, folly 
dispersed — or was it folly which assembled 
and wisdom which dispersed? 

101 



102 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"I, the child, shall seek Khadjas, that it 
be made known unto him that it hath come 
even as he foretold. Surely such a man who 
may utter prophecy is one to whom to 
harken. Khadjas, the potter, and the pot 
upon the wheel ! 

"Where is the child who listened unto his 
simple prating in wonderment? Behold, he 
hath grown old and become intermingled 
with the day, and the day hath forsaken him, 
and he is once more the child, listening to 
the prating of simple words, sure in his 
youthful confidence of the quenching of his 
thirst. 

"Yet where in the universe is there such 
simplicity? The day is confounded before 
its complications. To make words with men ; 
to utter thy opinions with the pith of pride 
within them, yet secretly quaking before 
their bottomlessness ; to be met by men who 
openly announce their honesty while their 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 103 

hands play deceit to their tongues ; to become 
enslaved of amour and to array thy words 
in fine linen and purple while thy beloved 
listeneth knowing not they are naked ; to set 
apart and see thy wisdoms, like famine- 
stricken babes, pleading for nurture; to 
stand before the obeisance of men and see 
thy soul grovel; to listen to the words of 
wise men with hearts of simplicity and 
mercy's streams upon their eyes, and laugh 
within thee at their foolish play, doubting 
with surety, yet doubting doubt ; to feel thy 
import and be crushed by a Thing, a Thing 
of awesome strength which maketh thy 
spirit whine; to be afraid to acknowledge 
this Thing lest thou shouldst announce it as 
a certainty; to make the wheels of wisdom 
draw the chariot of folly that thou mightest 
let thy hands rest from labour; to possess 
hands like these and to have beheld the hands 
of Khadjas; this is irony! 



104 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"To have held the treasure of thy lust and 
seen it decay; to have become possessed of 
the knowledge that thou hast drunk filth 
from a filthy urn and become drunk, believ- 
ing that the ribald awakening is the birth of 
wisdom; to have awakened and found the 
rotten flesh within thy embrace, and the 
lolling lips pressed unto thine, stopping thy 
utterance; to have had laid within thy hand 
the crown gem of the temple's idol, and to 
have idly played with its beauty as one turns 
a pebble o'er and casts it awhither ; to have 
lost the gem and to have known then its 
worth, and the pang of emptiness ; to watch 
thy caravan move slow, and to know that its 
packs are filled of atoms of thy soul, and that 
thou art empty; to traverse the seven seas 
and the seven desert ways; to have encircled 
the horizon's cup, pressing thy lips to its 
edge, if thou wouldst, to sup ; to find no sup, 
and to return to the potter and the pot ! 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 105 

" 'A man's thirst must fit his throat If 
the pot's throat be narrowed, 'tis its 
agony Y" 

(And the rider drew near the city's gates, and still he 
spoke unto his soul.) 

"And the city's gates are open, for it is 
noon. And there is no arising or coming 
forth, for what is one man upon a camel ! 

"The gatesman sleeps, and youth prattles 
about the well. Even as I, the child, leaned 
near the side of Khadjas, behold there is 
another ! 

"Awake, O Khadjas! What! dost thou 
sleep? Then indeed is wisdom allowed 
respite. Awake! See! I, the child, descend. 
Thine eyes are slow, O Khadjas. Behold 
me. I am before thee !" 

Khadjas (blinded by age) : "Who — who — 
who hath spoken ? Ah ! Where is the lead 
camel and its follow and its follow and its 
follow?" 



106 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Pilgrim: "Upon the four ways, O Khadjas, 
But who is this who leans at thy side in sup- 
pliant attitude, proffering a bowl ?" 

Khadjas: "Oh, the lips of Khadjas smile. O 
child, this is another — a child who thirsteth. 
Deliver him sup. He asketh what is wis- 
dom ? He hath brought forth word that men 
within the market's way laugh at the words 
of Khadjas. Speak confidently unto his 
listening. What is wisdom ?" 

Pilgrim to Child: "O, child, wisdom is not 
learning. Be not confused — O Khadjas, 
thou dost laugh, but it taketh not laughter 
to learn this ! I am come forth with the cloth 
of learning torn into tatters and I am naked. 
I have not goods nor yet exalted station, yet, 
O Khadjas, I have learned the answer unto 
this: 'How doth the face of wisdom look? 
Is she beauteous?' O Khadjas, thy words 
are true! She hath walked within the 
shadow of the camel o'er the desert, in voice- 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 107 

less smiling, awaiting my recognition. And 
her face ! O Khadjas, I, the child, remember 
how I dreamed she was more beauteous than 
the daughter of Aesol; that she was a 
maiden. But ah, Khadjas, I have learned! 
I have learned! I have learned! She is a 
child. She knoweth not amour, save that 
which bends in service. 

"O Khadjas, each morning she climbs the 
hillock of day, smilingly confident, and how 
few, O Khadjas, know her footfall ! She is 
not one who intrudes, for she leaveth man's 
folly in privacy. She is naked, O Khadjas, 
for she hath no knowledge of shame. All 
men are her brothers, and she is companion- 
able with the day. This, O Khadjas, is the 
thing which misleads men, for men show her 
face, not as the child's but frowning and writ 
soberly. O Khadjas, I, the child, rode forth 
in search of wisdom, when lo, she walked 



108 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

within the city's place and followed me 
thence." 

Khadjas: "Behold, O child, the youth who 
listeneth unto thy words. He itcheth upon 
his f ootsoles to be forth in quest of wisdom. 
Speak ! Look, he already stretcheth his body 
and maketh ready." 

Pilgrim : "O child, tarry! Search the shadows 
within the walls before thou makest on." 

Khadjas: "Nay, let him seek the well. It is 
meet, for rememberest thou not that words 
of delay are as lashes upon youth? There 
is no pith in the word of age unto youth. It 
is for the aged to eat of dried figs. Youth 
would drink them honey-ripe. Let him be 
on. Delay not his progress with thy touch. 
Already hast thou laid thy arm about him in 
fearful consideration, forgetting the joy 
which was thine upon that day far gone." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 109 

Pilgrim: "But, O Khadjas, how mayest thou 
in thy deep wisdom watch, with no feeling of 
consternation, youth's folly ? Thou knowest 
the way and its length, and even in thy wis- 
dom's fullness thou didst not bespeak me to 
tarry; and, seeing my return undone, hast 
thou no pity for his hapful way?" 

Khadjas: "O child, flattery is food for self. 
Thou hast yet to learn that all men's return 
be not as thine. Wisdom casteth forth youth 
with hope. Khadjas hath listened through 
the days, awaiting thy return with confident 
hoping, in the faith that thou wouldst return 
with words that wore the raiment of truth, 
and that we might sit before the turning 
wheel in contemplation of the wonder and in 
full understanding. Thou wouldst not heed 
the words of Khadjas, denying him. So, how 
may he lay thy hand within the Potter's so 
that thou mayest feel His creating?" 



110 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Pilgrim: "But, O Khadjas, thy words mean 
little. What is there within thy word which 
assures me it is truth ?" 

Khadjas: "Truth, O child, is so simple a thing 
that men pass it. It is the unadorned foun- 
dation of all utterance. To adorn is to con- 
fuse. Truth is just, without self. He who 
dealeth justice tempereth it not with self or 
it be not justice. Truth is right, and arrived 
at by but one gateway, and this gateway is 
not through the mouths of men. Truth is 
elemental, born alike unto all men, and the 
adornments hide her face." 

Pilgrim: "Yet thou hast not spoken how I 
may know Truth." 

Khadjas: "Rememberest thou, child, the 
desert moon and her threading silver ? Thou 
mightest reach forth and pluck the threads, 
yet they are not, save within the ether. Thou 
sayest : * 'Tis the moon's ray/ So is truth the 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 111 

golden orb unto all men, and we of earth 
receive but the threading of her light. 

"Behold yon blind beggar. He followeth 
confidently a light within. Truth quickeneth 
the heart and maketh the breast to swell. It 
is the conceiving of love, but leaveth thee, 
when once she hath entered, peaceful and 
confident. Truth is the undoer of the un- 
believer, for she is the foundation even of 
unbelief ! O child, let men drink their cups ; 
for truth is the dust's atoms within all 
water." 

Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, I am confused." 

Khadjas: "There is no confusion in justice." 

Pilgrim : "But men deal justice unalike." 

Khadjas: "Yea, she is a slave. Justice lies 
beneath the lash of adornment — argument. 
Whilst thou speakest, justice is waiting." 



112 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Pilgrim: "What is justice, O Khadjas; that 
thou shouldest see me stand before thee beg- 
ging when I would understand and am con- 
fused?" 

Khadjas: "O child, Khadjas maketh no argu- 
ment. He hath spoken no word of supplica- 
tion that thou shouldst believe. Behold, even 
as thou hast stood, he hath turned forth a 
pot. This is the answer. Just labour is the 
undoer.of unbelief, for a man must believe 
in his labour. And his labour is truth, and 
that labour which hath not truth within it be 
not truth. 

"The pot upon the wheel, O child, and the 
potter labouring. This is the answer. Words 
are not looms nor clay. Weariness is the 
robe of surety." 

Pilgrim : "This is simple, O Khadjas. What 
• is the labour man should be at ? Wouldst thou 
that all men mould forth pots ?" 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 113 

Khadjas: 'This is folly, child. What mat- 
tereth it the labour a man doeth, doeth he it 
in faithful service? Labour is the turning of 
the field of his soul, and desire is the seeding. 
Right desire is met by answering." 

Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, before thee I stand, I 
who have traversed the seven seas and the 
seven desert ways and girdled the earth with 
my caravans, and I am mute, for no word of 
mine liveth. I have but taken from the day 
and added no thing. Behold, I cast a purse 
unto yonder beggar. Is this the dealing of 
right?" 

Khadjas : "What didst thou purchase with the 
purse ?" 

Pilgrim: "No thing. I expect not but cast 
freely." 

Khadjas: "O child, child, child! Even as a 
child thou didst not this thing, for a coin was 
a coin unto thee then !" 



114 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Pilgrim : "What may I claim of such a man, 
Khadjas? I cast the coin that he may sup, 
and forget it." 

Khadjas : "There is no truth in this dealing, O 
child, for truth is a stern bartsman." 

Pilgrim : "I cannot understand thee, O Khad- 
jas. Wouldst thou that I buy his rags?" 

Khadjas : "Nay, child. Hast thou touched his 
blind eyes ? Hast thou followed with him the 
tedious paths? Hast thou known hunger 
such as his? The coins have not power to 
succor, for he shall follow the dark way 
clinking them, to be undone by the trades- 
men who play upon his shortcomings. Be- 
hold his face. Doth the coin bring light unto 
it? Speak! Call him 'brother' and look 
upon it. Oh brother, brother, come hither ! 
The bowl of Khadjas is running with cool 
water. List, hearest thou the dripping of its 
drops ? 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 115 

"Look thou, O child, is this the empty face 
which proceeds unto us ? Behold, age, child- 
hood, manhood and blindness — brothers ! 
Let blindness lead us. Seal thine eyes and 
follow the light within. 

"O child, dismantle thy adornments. Re- 
member thou that men in their flattery of 
self complicate truth, but men find her 
naked." 

Pilgrim: "Khadjas, I cannot believe thy 
words. Somewhere within the out-paths 
surely there is a thing which I may lay hands 
upon and know as certainty. My spirit may 
not be satisfied when the man is not." 

Khadjas: "Man may not lay his hands upon 
truth, O child. Labour is her flesh and man 
createth it beneath his hands. Deal simple 
words and labour faithfully. Thus thou be- 
comest no part of confusion. 

"Behold, the youth is going forth from the 
city's gateway. He will return. What shall 



li6 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

thy answer be ? Thou hast attained the re- 
spect of youth through age; betrayest thou 
the trust?" 

Pilgrim: "O Khadjas, stop him! The earth 
shall confuse him and the day bespread her 
splendors making him forget. Stop him, O 
Khadjas, stop him! 

"I would speak and make known to him 
the pitfalls. I would forewarn him of amour 
and its destruction. I would bespeak him of 
man's deceit. I would make him know that 
cunning is the lash of commerce. I would 
say there is no man who is faithful save that 
his faith be bought. I would make him 
know the emptiness of the thing for which he 
hopes." 

Khadjas : "So, thou hast unlearned this much ! 
What hast thou to offer in the stead of the 
day's dealing? What wouldst thou leave 
him?" 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 117 

Pilgrim: "What! wouldst thou let him go?" 

Khadjas: "Nay, nay, O child. Hope speeds 
his legs and he may but slay her." 

Pilgrim: "Speak, O Khadjas, hast thou, even 
in thy age, hope?" 

Khadjas : "Yea, yea." 

Pilgrim: "Utter it." 

Khadjas : "Behold my hands, shaking, yet the 
pots go on, and the wheel turns. My hope ? 
Yea, when he, the youth, returns, he shall 
find the wheel turning and a pot upon it !" 

Pilgrim : "But there are scores and seven fold, 
and scores and seven fold of thy pots, O 
Khadjas. Behold them upon the racks. He 
may drink from any of these." 

Khadjas : "Nay, nay, I would fashion one tor 
his thirst." 



118 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Pilgrim: "Thou art an aged mouther, O 
Khadjas, and thy words are torturous. Be^ 
hold, I bid thee look upon me, for I go forth 
from the city's place unfilled, and thou hast 
dealt unto me these years yet I cannot under- 
stand thy words and they fill me not." 

Khadjas: "Begone, O child, and when thou 
thirsteth, remember, thou shalt find a bowl 
beside the well, and its lips shall be laid of 
pale opah" 

Pilgrim: "Where is the potter, O Khadjas, 
who is turning the wheel of fate?" 

Khadjas: "He is not, O child. Man creates 
the clay and the potter sits with his head 
lifted among the stars and the sun is the pot 
upon his wheel. Man runs in fearing, look- 
ing upward with startled eyes, and, stum- 
bling upon the stones, cries out : 'It is Fate V 
Wait, O child. Khadjas taketh up a new 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 119 

clay and his hands shake. The clay is 
marred, yet he beginneth a new pot !" 

Pilgrim : "But there are tears upon thy cheeks, 
O Khadjas. What, what is the meaning of 
tears upon the cheek of wisdom ?" 

Khadjas : "O child, wisdom is weeping. Hers 
is a gentle smile which is born from out tears. 
No despised brother suffereth such neglect 
as doth she, for even men who accept her* 
despise her, announcing it in their own lauds 
of self. Man is the slave of wisdom, but she 
is o'er gentle and men demand her services 
in slavedom, causing wisdom to labour while 
they announce their pride in her possession. 
But wisdom flees from out their labour and 
leaveth it bottomless. She is a jealous maid 
and demands her lover's love. Yea, even as 
the daughter of Aesol, she will play thee false 
for false." 



120 THE POT UFON THE WHEEL 

Pilgrim : "Meanest thou, O Khadjas, that I, 
the child, played the daughter of Aesol 
false?" 

Khadjas: "O child, the caravan was not the 
gift thou shouldst have offered, nor the 
casket of thy spirit, which is flesh. Nay; 
thou didst deck the daughter of Aesol within 
the symbols of flesh and she became flesh, 
having nurtured upon such food, 

"Yea, and the fruit of flesh may not be- 
come perfect, having not a root within spirit. 
Aye— and the lips of Khadjas speak unto 
thee now bitter wisdom — the young lotus, the 
pale opal, was the child of thy spirit and the 
spirit of the daughter of Aesol, but flesh laid 
its hands upon its slender throat and left it 
undone. 

"This thing was right and meet, for it was 
wisdom that the flesh die and the spirit be 
sustained ; yea, wisdom o'er the death of the 
spirit and the sustainment of the flesh." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 121 

Pilgrim: 'This is blasphemy, O Khadjas. 
This is setting thy wisdom up before the face 
of the great Power. I, the child, decry thy 
folly, for thou speakest not out from the liv- 
ing of my day." 

Khadjas : "Look, O child ! Behold the pots of 
Khadjas. Among them thou shalt find 
broken vessels and them of ungainly fashion- 
ing. Such pots have suffered beneath his 
touch, for his eyes became dim with wisdom 
and his hands laboured unled. The weeping 
was o'er thee, O child." 

Pilgrim: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, Khadjas! Let 
me press my lips upon such vessels. That 
thou shouldst labour on through thy weep^ 
ing o'er me ! O Khadjas, Khadjas, Khadjas ! 
I am indeed the child! Answer with thy 
wisdom ; how didst thou labour though thou 
wert undone?" 



122 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Khadjas: "O child, Khadjas would guard thee 
from the unforgivable sin, that of emptying 
one hour of its labour ! There is no agony, 

child, like emptiness." 

Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, Khadjas, I, the child, 
stand before thee after the long tide of days, 
and the caravans, and the seven seas and 
the seven desert ways, and the daughter of 
Aesol, and the pale opal, and the pride of 
office — 1, the child, stand before thee with 
the small brass bowl, and it is empty ! 

"O Khadjas, Wisdom hath not a sup for 
such a son, but look! I, the child, kneel, 
proffering the bowl. Speak endearingly unto 
her and bespeak that she shall weep but one 
tear within it. Nay, nay, it is o'er much that 

1 ask ! Behold, I hold it beneath thine eyes, 
O Khadjas. Mine eyes are downcast ; I can- 
not behold thy face, O Khadjas, for it is 
written in agony." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 123 

Khadjas: "O child, child, lift up thine eyes. 
Behold, the eyes of Khadjas have become 
pools of light and his lips smile and thy 
bowl — look upon it! The crystal water 
bathes thy very hand ! What shalt thou do 
with this water ?" 

Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, Khadjas ! I shall let it 
become a part with clay and make forth 
bowls. Behold, behold my girdle! I shall 
dismantle myself of it and cast it unto the 
pathway. Behold, behold the cloak which 
covers me ! I have made me apart from it. 
Behold, behold my one camel ! I have given 
it the word of going and it goeth forth rider^ 
less. And my purse is gone and with it the 
desire for its filling. 

"It'groweth late, O Khadjas, and behold 
me naked save for a loincloth — once more the 
child beside thee. And the sleep of age is 
creeping o'er thee, the hand of weariness. 
Shalt thou return upon the morrow, and 



124 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

shall I speed forth unto thee from out the 
city, calling for a sup ? 

"O Khadjas, Khadjas, thou art tarrying 
within the tabernacle and the sacrificial fire 
is dim. Demand of me the price of thy wis- 
dom! 

"I have learned that the greatest wisdom 
hath no answer for the 'why! We, O 
Khadjas, are pilgrims within the caravan of 
death and each camel is packed of 'whys/ 
and the mart we seek is the answer! 

"I have learned this, O Khadjas, not from 
thy words but from their spirit, Demand of 
me the full price. My heart? It is thine." 

Khadjas : "Nay, nay, O child, thy heart may 
not labour. Give me thy hands; for their 
labor distills the spirit of God." 

Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, they are thine. Teach 
them the cunning of thy fingers' tips." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 12? 

Khadjas: "O child, the eyes of Khadjas have 
not beheld the day since the coming of the 
young lotus. Faith hath led his hand, and 
Desire his spirit. Tomorrow cometh, thou 
sayest. Yet tomorrow meaneth naught but 
the warmth of the sun upon the cheek of 
Khadjas. O child, lay thy hand upon the 
wheel. It is love-worn smooth, and the clay 
hath stained it. Even in the dark Khadjas 
knoweth how the sun findeth it each morn-* 
ing, or the shadows ; and the color of the clay 
beneath either dealing. 

"Thinkest thou that Khadjas might deny 
the sun a new vessel to fill, or the shadow? 
Tomorrow cometh, O child, and Khadjas 
biddeth thee to come unto his side, letting thy 
words be of inquiry, for understanding is 
thine. Tomorrow and thou shalt seek the 
spot and behold, Khadjas shall deliver unto 
thee his bequest. 



126 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"Tomorrow cometh. A new tomorrow, 
thou hast promised it, and Khadjas in his 
faith knoweth it. Tomorrow cometh, seek- 
ing the wheel of Khadjas. Come, and Khad- 
jas shall deliver unto thee his wisdom in 
full" 



X. 



(The desert sands lie dark beneath a purple sky. The 
changeless stars look down upon a silent earth dimly 
lighting the form of one who stands naked save for a loin- 
cloth, his face toward the East. Patiently, scarce mov- 
ing, with eager face he watches for the coming sun. At 
last the dry lips open and with arms flung high he speaks.) 

Watcher: O, Night! Make thy departure 
swift. For I, the child, traverse thy dark in 
faith of morning. I would watch the coming 
of the sun. Behold, the caravan hath moved 
on and the one camel followed with the last 
'why.' I, the child, with thy cool kiss upon 
my naked flesh, enjoy simplicity; no longer 
a part of confusion but apart from confusion. 
Even my labour shall be a simple thing. I 
shall not adorn it save with the zeal of my 
love, and its tracery shall be upon all things 
that come beneath my hands. 

127 



128 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

"Even the crust with which I shall stay 
my flesh shall be touched in awe, for under- 
standing is a mystery. It satisfies, yet leaveth 
hunger. It is life with its promised answer. 

"Behold the brass bowl, that beloved vessel 
which is naught but the symbol of my spirit. 
The paths of earth have have ceased to 
beckon me, for I know their wisdoms are 
empty and that he who traverses them 
carries his brass bowl, and it is filled or 
empty before the going. And he who is full 
thirsteth not and he who is empty knoweth 
not the thirst. 

"Man's spirit hides beneath the cloak of 
flesh and few bespeak the 'morrow' in recog- 
nition. O, Night ! I, the child, have learned 
that while men interchange goods their 
spirits stand aloof, speechless; yet let the 
hand of destruction fall upon a brother and 
the spirits stand forth, speaking one unto the 
other. Sorrow is the common call ; yea, the 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 129 

knocking at the door of spirit. This is true, 
for who would eat fruit and pray ? 

"O, Night, lift thy mantle that I, grown 
old, yet a child, behold youth upon the quest 
and apply understanding! It is late, late, 
and the imprint is not within the hand of 
youth. What pity that its labour shall be 
short. 

"Life is but a chain of incidents bestrung 
upon faith, and he who hath not faith hath 
but an ill assortment of atoms. 

'Ton the sun cometh, bringing to youth 
day, and to age the counting off of labour. 
Yon the sun cometh, and already within 
the city's walls he hath announced the 
morning and his light hath lain upon the 
wheel of Khadjas. Behold the city's wall 
and its mute gateway. O, the city's spirit is 
a creation of the spirit of all her men. 
Thereby is she fallen or sustained. Her 
faith is mute but everlasting, and men 



130 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

weave upon its loom their destinies and 
thereby taint or embellish the spirit of her. 

"O ope, thou mute gateway ! Let me pass. 
I would seek the side of Khadjas. O gate- 
man, haste thy fingers. Set the gate open. 
Behold, youth is coming unto thee for wis- 
dom, sweeping through the gateway to 
come within the city's spirit. Bestir ! Bestir 
thee! 

"O, yon speedeth a long-limbed youth who 
beareth" a bowl of brass. Await thou, O, 
youth ! Whither goest ?" 

Youth: "O, stop thy inquiry. I am on the 
path unto the side of Khadjas — Khadjas, the 
gentle dealer of words; Khadjas, the sooth- 
er; Khadjas, the seer; Khadjas, the promis- 
er; Khadjas, the fulfiller of the promises; 
for his wisdom is as the string upon the 
bow. It speedeth the arrow and is strong to 
bear the bending. Yea, yea, hast thou not 
heard of Khadjas — Khadjas, the teacher, the 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 131 

singer ; he who moulds pots ; he whose hands 
are shaken; he whose eyes are sealed; he, 
the well of wisdom? 

"I go unto the side of Khadjas. Look 
thou, all the night's hours I have burnished 
my bowl that it be fit for his wisdom. I go 
to the side of Khadjas, for know thee, man, 
at high noon I go forth from the city's gate 
to encounter the day. Thinkest thou that 
I might go without a fresh sup ? For this is 
to sustain me through the days. I shall 
thirst and see no water save that within my 
bowl. What is thy word?" 

Watcher: "O child, let me seek the side of 
Khadjas with thee. I would kneel before the 
ceremony of his deliverance unto thee." 

Child : u O man, where is the water of thy wis- 
dom?" 

Watcher: "Behold, behold the bowl which is 
mine. With the sweat of false labour I did 



132 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

make its bottom pierced through and it would 
not hold. But O child, O child, it was not 
o'er late, for look thou, through the night 1 
laboured and mended the spots with my 
faith." 

Child : "Look thou, O man ! Yon is the wheel 
of Khadjas, standing in the sun. Where is 
Khadjas ? What is the morning without the 
murmur of his voice? Behold, the spot is 
empty ! And the pots stand, mute evidence 
of his labour, each speaking, from its ample 
throat, his love. 

"Look thou! the cup is filled and new clay 
wetted upon the wheel! Oh, where is wis- 
dom! Is the voice of Khadjas dumb? Is 
his labour finished? Shall men thirst and 
there be no bowls? Oh, where is wisdom 
and what is wisdom ?" 

Watcher: "Wisdom is not learning, O child. 
Be not confused. It is the pot upon the 
wheel, turning." 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 133 

Child: "But it turneth not! The hand of 
Khadjas is gone." 

Watcher: "But the clay awaiteth and the 
water is dripping." 

Child: "How may I know wisdom? Is she 
laughing? Hath she turquoise upon her 
ankles? Is her breast yellow as the sands, 
and her locks, do they glisten ? Oh, tell me, 
how doth wisdom appear?" 

Watcher: "Touch the wheel. I would hear 
its turning. Lo, is not the sound grateful ? 
Wisdom, O child, is naked of feet. She is 
beside thee, walking as thy shadow ; hid be- 
neath flesh yet a covenant unto it." 

Child: "And what is the answer of wisdom, 
O man? Speak." 

Watcher: "The pot upon the wheel, turning. 
Go forth, O youth, with thy bowl in confi- 
dence. Be not dismayed, for thou hast 



134 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

pledged thy faith within the well of wisdom. 
Go forth, and shouldst thou pass upon the 
way a caravan which is leaderless, let it make 
its way westward; for he who hath driven 
it forth hath forgotten it. 

"Go forth, O child, and dost thou pass 
one camel, let it upon its way, for its pack 
is confusion. Seal thy lips from whys, for 
they are the undoers of men. Fools utter 
whys as cunning, and wise men are silent. 
"Oh thou blind beggar, what seekest thou?" 

Beggar: "Water! Water! O Khadjas, 
water !" 

Watcher: "Come forth, O brother, unto the 
side of the well and speak thee. Where is 
Khadjas?" 

Beggar : "How may est thou utter this ? Know- 
est thou not that he is at the wheel, though 
he was found at the threshold of the out- 
gate of the city, with the morning sun upon 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 135 

his lips and his face upturned Eastward? 
And, his hands clasped a perfect bowl !" 

Watcher: "O Khadjas! O Khadjas! O 
Khadjas ! This then is the morrow, and thy 
labour goeth on. Give me thy hands; for 
they distill the spirit of God. Oh, the clay 
throbs and my hands lie in cloying touch 
upon it. It will not free itself from my 
touch. The pot upon the wheel, turning. 

"Behold, O, child, its curve, which is born 
beneath love. Is it not fair to look upon ?" 

(A child approaches, running.) 

Child: "O thou who speakest; behold, a cara- 
van hath come within the city's walls, and 
upon the camels nobles ride who seek a broth- 
er, one who was wed unto the daughter of 
Aesol. What is the answer I shall bear 
back?" 

Watcher: "Go forth, O child, and tell them 
he hath ridden forth upon his caravan west- 
ward, never to return." 



136 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

Child: "What is thy authority, O man?" 

Watcher : "He was my brother and departed 
from me. 

"Wouldst thou go forth, O youth, and fol- 
low the caravan? Behold, they go the West 
way in search of him who was lost." 

Youth : "I would go Eastward, for I would 
meet the days." 

Watcher: "Begone, O youth, but e'er thou 
goest let the hand of Khadjas deliver unto 
thee a bit of clay, for he who toucheth it 
knoweth the magic of creation. Remember, 
O child, and keep the atom wet with thy 
faith." 

Youth : "Behold, O man, yon cometh a youth 
who hath not a bowl and he crieth out in 
thirst. What shalt thou deal unto him ?" 

Watcher: "O child, take up the brass bowl 
of my youth and deliver it unto the hand 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 137 

of him, for I no longer need the bowl which 
is mine for I shall create a new bowl each 
morrow/' 

Youth : "The hour hath come when it is mid- 
day, and I go forth, O man. What is thy 
bidding?" 

Watcher: "Make haste Eastward. I shall 
await thee confidently." 

(And the youth speeds away, leaving the watcher at 
the wheel.) 

Watcher : "Oh, I would not look upon the face 
of Khadjas, nor see him when his hands are 
idle, for he hath said : 'I would not that my 
wisdom know when its labour is finished/ 

"Behold, O Khadjas, they have gone; the 
youth unto the East way, which will joy thee, 
and the thirsted one lingereth not but shall 
return with the morrow with his thirst. And 
the beggar is no longer crying out, for I 
know him as brother, I, who sit with my 
naked feet about the wheel and the clay upon 



13$ THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

my tinge rs. Behold. I have made a per: 
pot and it joineth these, becoming a par: 
them upon the same rack, and my hand 
itcheth for new clay. Oh indeed this is joy, 
the purchasing of palms such as thine, 
Khadjas 



XL 



(The wings of Time have sped over many seasons. The 
sun has sought the West way and the heavy moon arises 
from the sea of sand to show again the wheel of Khadjas. 
Intent upon a pot sits one grown old and thin. With deft 
but shaking hands he turns the wheel, touching the clay 
with loving touch, as soft as the light which plays upon 
the wheel and makes the old eyes lift unto the moon's 
placid face. With familiar accents he speaks.) 

Ancient: 4 'Yon is the moon, already come, 
and my labour but begun. Is the sun 
jealous of the day, departing in fury when 
Night woos? 

4 The moon, with the light of wisdom upon 
her countenance; that placid smile which is 
soothing. 

"O Khadjas, Khadjas! I, too, have 
traversed the aging days. Already have my 
hands begun their shaking, and youth despis- 
eth my wisdom. There is a morrow coming 

139 



140 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 

which shall find me beside the gateway with 
my face turned upward toward the Eastern 
sun, and clay within my hands; for the 
wheel shall await the hand of youth and 
there shall be clay made ready for his labour. 

"And when that morrow hath come and 
gone, and the city hath spoken of my going ; 
behold, in the silver dawn of Eternity the 
Wheel shall turn, and upon it shall stand a 
Pot which shall reflect the universe upon its 
curves. * 

"And the sun of the New Day shall illume 
it from within, and it shall glow even as a 
rainbow, while upon its surface mankind 
writes the day. And thou, Khadjas, shalt 
sit beside me, the child, watching the wheel 
turn. 

"And lo, the Potter shall sit beside the 
Wheel, gazing forth across Eternity, while 
thou, O Khadjas, a child, and the child thou 
lovest, shall lean beside Him, listening unto 



THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 141 

His wisdom and watching the Pot upon the 
Wheel, turning!" 

(And as a vision, vast and full of portent, appeared a 
wheel of velvet black spread across a limitless sky, as of 
eternity; and upon it, standing in more than Kingly beauty, 
a Pot, whose lines of graceful splendor reached into the 
hovering stars, within whose light its outline showed. And 
from within the Pot there glowed a radiance of pearly 
iridescence, lighting its glistening surface on which snowed 
the procession of Life, myriad in detail, spreading in endless 
paths as the Wheel turned in stately majesty. 

(And lo, beside the wheel there grew a Shape, towering 
upward in mystic grandeur, now dim in monstrous outline 
but .at last showing clear the wonderful hands, pleading the 
wheel into motion, and above, a Head, bended in sweet intent 
and placid loving, down to two figures leaning with upturned 
faces that drank in answering love — Khadjas and the child!) 



THE END. 



Patience Worth: a Psychic 
Mystery 

By CASPER S. YOST 

A presentation of the facts in relation to the 
phenomenon of Patience Worth, together with 
numerous examples of the varied literary 
production. 

Mr. Yost makes no excessive claim when he affirms that the out* 
standing characteristics of these communications is their marked 
intellectual quality. The intelligence displayed in them is truly, as 
he says, "keen, swift, subtle and profound." — Lawrence Gilman in 
the North American Review. 

"What makes the problem significant is the quality of Patience 
Worth's utterance. That she is sensitive, witty, keenly meta- 
physical in her poetry and finely graphical in her drama no one 
will deny. As one reads Mr. Yost's narrative one comes to delight 
in her. She is full of good sense and genuine religion and tender- 
ness. Whoever or whatever she is, she meets the test that human 
beings meet." — Francis Hackett in the New Republic. 
"The immense mass of the communications, their high level of 
literary quality, their flashes of genius, the distinct and interesting 
personality revealed, arrest attention and put the whole affair 
immeasurably beyond any other communication which has ever 

fretended to come from the other side of the grave." — New York 
imes. 

"The unusual distinction about this Patience Worth is her excep* 
tional and consistent intelligence. She shows in all her messages 
every sign of a vigorous, keen mentality." — New York Sun. 
"Never once do these messages sink to the commonplace; but 
always show high intelligence, and sometimes the token of real 
genius. There is nothing spooky about the book, no hint of the 
weird, no trace of the uncanny; instead a sweet^and gracious spirit 
breathes through it, wise withal and winning." — Rev. Joseph Fort 
Newton in Unity. 

Henry Holt and Company 

Publishers New York 



The Sorry Tale 

By PATIENCE WORTH 

A story of the time of Christ, bringing into 
close view the historical characters of Tiberius, 
Herod, Pilate and, particularly and dominantly, 
Jesus Christ. It is a story of emotion, of 
pathos, of tragedy, relieved by the beauty and 
tenderness of its treatment, the poetic quality of 
its prose and the humor of some of its scenes. 

"Patience works her own will with the gospels. She invents new 
miracles, she retells the old ones, she fills out with incidents the 
lives of Christ and his disciples: but the touching beauty and simple 
dignity of the figure of Christ are treated always with reverence 
and there is nothing in the tale to which the most orthodox would 
object. There is wonderful and graphic detail in the picturing of 
many of the scenes of Christ's life: such as the trial and the cruci* 
fixion. The same is true of manners and customs, incidents, events, 
and characters all through the story. The pages are full of exqui' 
sitely described miniatures. But they are merely the jewels that 
adorn and hold in place the rich robes of the story. For the long 
and intricate tale is constructed with the precision and the accur* 
acy of a master hand. It is a wonderful, a beautiful, and a noble 
book." — New York Times Book Review. 

"The sheer beauty of the chapter on the Sermon on the Mount; the 
spirituality of the passage descriptive of the Last Supper and the 
evening in Gethsemane; the moving narrative of the last days of 
Jesus, and the terrific climax of the crucifixion I shall not soon for* 
get. The dramatic handling of these incidents, the reverent treat' 
ment of so lofty a theme as divinity upon earth is noteworthy. Un- 
questionably this is the greatest story penned of the life and times 
of Christ since the Gospels were finished." — Roland Greene Usher. 

"It is a tale of action. From start to finish it moves. The threads 
of the great plot are woven with consummate skill, never revealing 
more of that which follows than the author desires, and yet drawing 
steadily and surely to the tremendous tragedy on Calvary, which is 
its climax." — St. Louis Globe' Democrat. 

Henry Holt and Company 

Publishers New York 



Hope Trueblood 

By PATIENCE WORTH 

A story of life in an English village in the last century. 
A mid' Victorian novel by a pre^ Victorian writer. It is 
written in modern English, having none of the archaic 
qualities of 'The Sorry Tale/' it is filled with a delight- 
ful mingling of humor and pathos, and has the quality of 
apparent reality. 



"Whether in the body or in the spirit, the author of "Hope True- 
blood" is singularly gifted with imagination, invention and power 
of expression. The psychological analysis, and invention of the occult, 
the dramatic power displayed in the narrative are extraordinary 
and stamp it as a work approximating absolute genius." — New York 
Tribune. 

"No teller of tales who has studied his craft could read this story 
without the keenest admiration for the finished technique with 
which Patience Worth handles this story. Notwithstanding the 
serious quality and the many pitifulnesses and tragedies of the 
story it tells, the book has much humor of a quaint, demure type, a 
kind of humor that stands out as a characteristic of all her work 
and her personality." — New York Times Book Review. 

"Pages could be filled easily and we think entertainingly with 
report of the quaint curiosities of speech in the text. There is 
much of fine old English, the English that people of culture profess 
to disdain. There are paragraphs of power and paragraphs of 
history." — New York Sun. 

"You will wonder at the sheer beauty of the story's thought and 
diction. You will be convinced that here is a tale from rhe pen of 
a master word builder." — Chicago Evening Mail. 

"One cannot escape the realization that here is a masterpiece. Can 
it be that this is some Bronte from Spirit land who has found a tiny 
aperture through the bleak wall of death to which she has pressed 
her lips." — Los Angeles Times. 



Henry Holt and Company 

Publishers New York 



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